


The Conspiracy

by Jkit45



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Billyreb if you squint a lot, Canon? I dont know her, F/M, No this is literally AU as fuck, S.T.A.R.S., S.t.a.r.s. fic, Slow Burn AF, This is a very loose adaptation, Valenfield - Freeform, in which i get to have a great time and y'all can come along with me for the ride, nsfw starting ch8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-11-24 00:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 73,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20898338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jkit45/pseuds/Jkit45
Summary: A Chris and Jill RE1 story. Jill Valentine is a game warden clued in to the strange happenings in the state park surrounding the small town known as Raccoon Village. Much to the dismay of her family and friends, she finds herself investigating outlandish conspiracies surrounding missing people and mysterious sightings in the Arklay Forest Preserve.





	1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. This is a loose adaptation of RE. I used to write fic for RE probably 10 years ago, and this whole entertainment of re-booting the series via a fanfic to make it work for the 2010s and giving my lovely Chris and Jill the spotlight has been a pet project for a very long time. I thought I’d post it and see if anyone likes it.

Terrible? Adequate? Cringe central? Let me know.

Suggested listening:

_Desperado_ Rihanna

_Love _Jereth

Chapter 1:

Jill checked again that she had her radio turned on, “Nights are quiet here.” She pointed out. Her partner, Chris Redfield, sat in the driver’s seat. She leaned back, squinting in the dark, trying to see something besides her own reflection. Trees in a dark mass, the glare of their dashboard computer light on the windshield.

Raccoon Fish and Game tended to be quiet for a law enforcement agency. Stranded tourists in the woods. An occasional white tail poached out of season. Broken down motorists on the long, lonely highway into the village.

“Don’t say that word.” Chris said, looking up from the screen, “It’s a jinx.” She smiled as he said it—or course Chris would say that.

“Believe in that?” 

“Redfields are superstitious.” He shrugged, reaching back for his coffee. One other, a village cop rather than a warden, shared the nighttime patrol. “Heard from Sullivan? Anything happen in the neighborhoods lately?” She asked, mostly bored and looking for a good story. And Chris always knew the best stories of incidents involving Raccoon’s finest.

“Nothing, really. I know he’s probably by Sunset Street where Old Main Road comes in, but we would’ve heard if he got anything.”

“Patrols didn’t catch the midnight target shooter last night. Captain Marini was pretty disappointed when I got here.” She finished, yawning. As much as Chris hated the word, ‘quiet’ was the best description of work in Raccoon. It was quiet. She’d once been a city cop, fresh out of academy. But she’d been transferred here on an outreach program offer: Raccoon had to infuse new blood to their department. They wanted people with city experience to “better understand city residing tourists” and Jill had been the one who bought the pitch. Bags packed from Albany and here she was.

She wasn’t complaining. Raccoon Fish and Game was far nicer than where she’d been before. Better pay and friendlier faces.

“Your city kids like to shoot things when they can’t even see them?” Chris prodded.

“No, think that’s reserved for the rednecks.” She answered, not entirely paying attention as she squinted at what she thought was a feral cat trotting across the tree line. They’d gotten reports of late night gunshots going off, but hadn’t found a culprit. Considering it was the first warm weekend of the spring and most of the camp grounds were filled, there were many non-residents out to have a good time and find trouble. Beyond the trees in front of them was one such campground. Just far enough that the campers couldn’t see their vehicle without coming up the path. Maybe they’d get lucky.

“We had some Robinhood trying to shoot archery off a snowmobile aiming at the road last winter

He looked like he was going to add something to the conversation, but the radio went off.

_“This is dispatch.” _

“Evening, dispatch, Officer Redfield here.”

“There’s a four-one-one in progress at Raccoon General. We’re looking for an available unit. Tall female.”

A break in at the hospital. “I guess we’ve got some crazies tonight after all.” A check of her watch showed it was three o’clock Tuesday morning (the “bewitching hour”, Chris would say). A sharply cold spring night. “Probably looking for opiates?” Jill muttered, flicking the switch for the sirens.

“We’re about to find out!”

Chris floored it down Main Street, the sirens blaring, lights reflecting on the darkened windows of storefronts. Maybe going sixty miles an hour for two blocks was overkill, but Jill leaned her head back and enjoyed the ride. He turned right, swerving into the parking lot of the impressive structure before them, “Guess we take the front door?” They zoomed down the ambulance lane.

“Thinking we could kick it down, make an entrance.” She joked. He rolled the cruiser up the sidewalk, leaving the lights on. A new building, mostly glass. Some large ticket construction project for the town that was a donation from a high roller. She didn’t remember who. A well-known cancer research center used the hospital as one of their research labs, a small hub. Summer students ranging from undergraduate to PhD candidates were a common demographic in their village.

Automatic doors swung open to a deserted waiting room. A light buzzed and flickered in the corner were a man slept sitting in a chair with his head back and mouth open. Beautiful flower arrangements which were donated by the local florist—people came from far and wide for the clinical trials. This hospital was one of Raccoon’s main sources of income. Jill kept her hand near her tazer and moved forward to the receptionist at the desk, who nearly jumped up with delight at seeing them, “Hey!” The young woman breathed.

“Hey. We got a call?” Chris leaned his arm on the counter.

“Oh good.” The security officer came out from behind the counter, “Our cameras went down and she’s hopped up on something. We were able to lock the doors downstairs, though.”

“’Hopped up’? Think she’s intoxicated?”

“She was wearing sunglasses and a bandana. Didn’t get a good look.” He made a motion to his own face.

“She armed?” Jill’s heart rate kicked up, the idea of having a desperate criminal trapped somewhere wasn’t a comforting one.

“Not as far as we know, but our security system’s been acting up. The camera feeds have been dead a while.”

“That’s a pain.” Chris and Jill followed the nighttime security to the door to the basement. He cleared his throat, “The doors are all locked? That’s the security system?”

“It’s the basement system, that’s where the pharmaceuticals are kept and we can remotely lock the doors. We’re assuming she’s in the pharmacy. We locked that door too, but without the cameras, we don’t know where she is. No alarms have gone off so no glass has been broken anywhere.” The man explained.

“Trust me, you got a desperate robber trapped down there, it’s only a matter of time.” Chris whistled.

“Where’s the pharmacy?” Jill asked. She didn’t want to go in blind.

“Down the stairs on the right, the only pharmacist here tonight is upstairs assisting with a case.”

_No other attendants?_ Though, Jill again found herself remembering it was a small town, and research hospital or not, things tended to be lightly staffed. 

“Suspiciously quiet down there.” The second, younger security guard said. Jill found herself waiting for Chris to chide him for saying the ‘q’ word, but Chris didn’t and she was determined not to let any of his superstitions wear off on her. 

“Is it possible the cameras were sabotaged?” For the street value of certain pills people got creative. Jill watched the senior officer punch in a key code to open the door to the stairwell.

“No they’ve been down.” He repeated.

“What does she look like?” Chris asked.

“Tall, wearing a black hoodie. The only person down there.”

She gripped the button for her radio, “This is Officer Valentine. We might need backup at Raccoon Memorial. Got an intoxicated woman in the basement. Possibly armed.”

A few seconds before dispatch got back to her, “_Sullivan's__ heading your way. He’s a few minutes out.” _

“Appreciate it. Over.” Jill said, rolling her shoulders again beneath the vest, “Guess we better get down there.” 

“R.P.D. ! Come out with your hands up!” Chris’ voice boomed down the staircase, echoing off green cinder block walls, “R.P.D. !”

They waited, straining to listen, and hearing nothing. Jill took the lead around the first bend of the staircase, finger near the trigger of the tazer. It was different down here than in the modern, clean waiting room. Dated cinder block, the forest green paint peeling from the narrow walls.

A storage closet. Jill opened it while Chris covered her. “Clear.”

They repeated procedure with the closet on the other side of the hallway. Another dusty space used for nothing more than a cleaning supplies. A mop clattered to the floor. Chris jumped and Jill forced herself to breathe. Canisters of cleaning product rolled on the linoleum. The alcohol smell of the cleaner burned in her nose.

The pharmacy shudders were closed, the young security guard followed behind them, his baton out. He punched in the keypad to the door, and they marched inside. Shelves of medicines and sterile opaque plastic drawers. A table with scales, slides and paper cups for counting pills out.

Chris said: “Could eat off this table.” It took a moment for Jill to realize he was implying that everything was clean and nothing was terribly out of place.

“She’s not in here. Trust you’ll have your pharmacist count the pills when they get back down?” Jill glanced into the back room. Nothing looked touched. She’d seen good pill thieves, though. A break area with a table and chairs, a mini fridge humming in the corner. Nowhere to hide. Opiates locked safely into the cabinets, “Nothing.” 

_For the love of everything don’t be in the morgue. _Jill wasn’t sure what triggered that thought, but she pushed it away. Another room beyond the pharmacy, Chris motioned with two fingers. Jill exhaled—the distinct sound of movement came from further down the hallway. She drew her tazer a second time, flicking the switch to release the trigger guard. She gave him a nod.

_Where the hell is she? _

Chris called out again, gaining no response. 

But there was someone in that room. The door was propped open, a shadow cast across the speckled tile flooring. Distinct noises of papers crinkling.

Jill peeked around the door.

A hooded figure stood at a desk with her back turned. That was her opportunity. Jill whipped around the doorway.

“Freeze!” The red aiming laser from her tazer settled on her back. She ignored them, leafing through a stack of manila envelopes, her movements slow, deliberately turning each piece of paper in the files.

“Hands on the table or you’re getting tazed!” Chris warned. 

She straightened, back turned, closing the folder and resting her fingertips on the table. Not quite relaxed, still defiant, “Now turn around. Nice and slow. What are you doing down here?” The figure said nothing, hands remained on the counter, “Put your hands up and _turn around.” _Jill was more forceful. The woman’s fingers drummed on the yellowed linoleum.

She turned and bolted, hitting the floor on all fours, ducking below the barbs as Jill squeezed the trigger. She scrambled across the tile, Chris went for her but she was fast enough to slip from his grip. She made a beeline for the stairs.

“Stop!” He shouted, tearing after her and managing to catch her arm. The woman twisted away, tripping over her own gangly limbs and yanking Chris down in the process. Amazingly she was still on her feet. Jill dropped her spent tazer and leapt over her downed partner. The hospital guard was far behind her, she kept running.

_“She’s running!” _Chris’s voice echoed over her radio, _“Where’s that backup?” _ The woman was fast, Jill was athletic, but this suspect was incredibly fast. Her long legs already had her halfway up the stairs. She shouldered the door, shoving the security guard back who fell like he didn’t stand a chance against her. Jill scrambled around him.

_PCP? She’s strong. Jesus. _

“Stop!” Jill shouted. _Might need a canine unit too! _But she was too focused running to grasp her radio. The woman already down the sterile hallway, bolting past reception. _Fast! How are you so fast? _“In pursuit! Front exit! Parking lot!” Jill finally managed the button. Arms pumping as she ran, she tore through the front door, whirling around, and finding the woman nowhere in sight. A knifing cold gust of wind whipped her bobbed hair around her head.

Chris caught up to her then, running ahead, shining his flashlight between the rows of cars. Jill ran alongside him, “She’s gone.” She said, panting, knees aching from the strain of the impromptu sprint.

“See how fast she was?”

“She’ll get tired.” Jill replied.

__

If you hate it or like it. I wanna hear that comment. Flame this thing.

Actually I’ve had a lot of fun writing this and I’m probably gonna post more regardless. 😊


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thanks readers! I hope that you enjoy ch2. Cheers <3**

**Chapter 2: **

Raccoon had one canine unit, which was actually a retired woman who volunteered with her tracking dog and had taken two hours to reach in the wee light of the morning. Jill wondered why it was even worth the effort following the hospital’s overnight pharmacist assuring nothing was missing. Something about making a point, Enrico Marini, the overnight captain on call assured them. Raccoon Village didn’t stand for these sorts of things. Jill shut her mouth—it wasn’t like there was anything more dangerous going on. Opiate theft, or attempted theft, was enough.

Apparently, Martha had decided to get out of bed and bring Scout the sniffer dog. Ol’ Scout was not too keen on working. The bloodhound, sporting his greyed muzzle, lay panting in the parking lot. “C’mon, Scout.” Martha tugged his harness, over and over. He didn’t move, only whimpered and tucked his head beneath his paws, “Neva’ done that before.” She took a long drawl from her cigarette and flicked the ashes on the ground, crunching them with the toe of her boot.

_Not in Albany anymore. _Jill carefully placed her tazer back into her belt, a fresh battery pack provided by Sullivan.

Scout-the-hound was more interested returning to sleep in the parking lot than bagging a criminal. Long tongue hanging down, dripping saliva on the ground. Jill figured it didn’t matter—she and Chris had run into the parking lot screaming like a pair of idiots and looked in every parked car and bush in the vicinity.

She’d been incredibly fast and easily disappeared into the darkness before Jill’s mind could register which direction she’d headed. _How were you so fast? _Jill wasn’t slow herself; she could outrun most of the men who joined her in morning cross-fit classes—one of the few outlets offered in this small town.

Hector took them with her, sometimes. Her fiancé’s busy schedule didn’t allow him to spend much time at his Raccoon Village cabin.

Shift leader, Captain Enrico Marini, marched out of the hospital. He adjusted his belt, “Nothing missing. Some files rummaged through but all of them seem to be in order. They’re not pressing charges. Sorry, Martha. Guess we’re going to give you and Scout the night off.”

“Well.” She looked down at her old dog, sighing, “Well, I’m not sure how much help he was going to be tonight, anyway. He’s not getting much younger.”

Captain Marini and Jill exchanged a glace. She wondered what that meant for Raccoon’s ‘canine unit’ but didn’t ask. That was a question for another time, not in front of the poor elderly volunteer woman who’d just been dragged out of bed for literally no reason.

“No charges?” Chris spoke up, “Why? She had a gun!” 

Enrico cleared his throat, “So does more than half of this town. We’ll keep an eye out for her. Either of you get a look at her face?”

“No, sir.” Jill looked at the asphalt beneath her feet, “About five-ten, she was tall. Real thin.”

“She was tall. Wearing a bandana and hoodie.” Chris made a motion over his mouth and nose with his hand.

“How many tall women live in this town who happen to own bandanas?” Captain Marini raised his eyebrows.

“Point taken, sir.” It was Chris’ turn to look down.

“Alright. Pack it in. Valentine—get a statement from that receptionist. Write it up and get back on patrol.” Captain said, turning for his own cruiser—he had driven out the bad one. The old sedan that didn’t start unless you pounded on the dashboard to re-engage the starter and had a burnt out taillight. They weren’t supposed to use it except in emergencies, and Jill supposed if they’d actually caught the attempted thief, then perhaps it would have been more worth the Captain’s while to make his way to the downtown strip.

“Yes, sir.” Jill went off as ordered, approaching the wide-eyed, olive skinned brunette who manned the front desk at the reception desk. A homeless man remained curled beneath an eggshell sheet on the chairs of the waiting room. He snored loudly, apparently oblivious to the action which had just unfolded around him, or simply too tired to care.

“Hey there.” She stated, pulling out her notepad and putting on her best smile. Usually Chris was better at this—putting people at ease and acting like he was their friend. Hell, she swore he was friends with half of the village. On the other hand, Jill was her same awkward self. Quiet and abrasive—if you asked Hector, at least, “Can I ask you a couple questions about what happened?”

“I told you earlier. She came in and went into the basement.”

“’just came in’?” Jill pressed, “She had to get inside somehow.”

“She came in. I don’t know through which door.”

_Right. Cameras aren’t working. _That was a bummer.

Jill finished jotting down the last sentence she’d worked on, “Okay. So when did you notice her? What made you call the police?”

“I noticed her…I don’t know. I saw her go down into the basement and she wasn’t dressed like one of the doctors or the students—I don’t know them all, but they have to wear scrubs. She was dressed wrong. I called out to her that the area was off limits, but she didn’t turn around.”

“Then what?” Jill asked, jotting down notes. Though, it was straightforward. _Unknown female. Walked in—uncertain entrance. Entered basement. Reception called out. No response. _

“Well, I called security.”

“Is that protocol, calling security when someone goes to the wrong floor?” Jill pushed.

“Um.” The woman at the desk looked down, “No. But she was giving me a weird vibe.”

“A weird vibe?”

Dark eyes looked up at Jill, almost nervously, “It’s two in the morning and she had her hood pulled up, a bandana over her face and sunglasses…And she was…I don’t know. Weird. She was doing this weird posture thing.”

“Did you get a look at her face?”

“Dark hair.” The woman at the desk motioned to her own black curls.

That added something to the description. Jill jotted it down, “What’s a ‘weird posture thing’?” It was a legitimate question. Jill hoped she didn’t come off as condescending.

The woman at the desk cocked her head sideways and weaved her head back and forth. Jill described it as best as she could in as few words as she could write. The gesture was strange enough to remember when she typed it up, “She must’ve been high.” The receptionist muttered, “It was just…weird.”

“Did she say anything?”

“No. She just was doing the head thing and then she went into the basement and I paged security. And then you came chasing her through here. I didn’t see her face until you chased her down the hallway.”

They’d already asked the receptionist where she’d gone, but Jill figured she might as well again, “And you’re sure you didn’t see the direction she headed?”

“Positive.” The woman shook her head, dark circles beneath her eyes, “Look at the glare.” And Jill turned.

Across the waiting room with the florescent lights, she only saw her own face staring back at her, reflected on the glass.

“Right. Alright. Anything else you noticed?”

“Uh…” She paused thoughtfully, looking down at dark red painted nails, “No. Sorry.”

“Thank you.” And then a pause and Jill stepped silently from the desk, saying, “Hope the rest of your night…shift…is better.”

But the woman didn’t say anything to her and she was glad to be back into the Raccoon Fish and Game SUV.

“Get anything?” Chris asked her, already back from taking a statement from one of the security guards.

“More of a description. But basically nothing. ‘Dark hair’. Really narrows it down.” Jill muttered.

“Better call all the brunettes in for questioning.” Chris teased, but it was half-hearted.

“Don’t forget the blacked-haired women.” She replied, turning through the wrinkled pages of her notepad before tucking it back into the pack around her waist. 

The silence of defeat settled across them, “Can’t believe they don’t want to pursue this.” Chris muttered, “Hospital director apparently called. Said for us to let it go.”

“I guess it’s hard to pursue when we lost the suspect.”

“She ran for the hills.” Chris muttered, “Damn. Can’t believe how strong she was.”

“And fast.” Jill stated again. But PCP did that. She told the head-gesturing detail to Chris and laughed while she did the same strange, head-cocked sideways motion the receptionist had.

“High as hell. Damn.” Chris said. And then they both laughed, and as unprofessional as it was, Jill couldn’t help herself.

They drove back to the station, located away from Main Street, on the edge of the protected Arklay State Forest. A decades-old cinderblock building. There had once been a police station downtown, but it had been merged into the firehall long before Jill’s arrival.

But the more she thought about it, the more the situation bothered her. Jill stared out the window, watching the small closed shops on the strip turn into thick forest, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Fine. It’s just bugging me.”

“Me too.” Chris told her, keeping his eyes forward. She turned to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Can’t believe she shoved me down. Should’ve held on.”

“Not that.” Though Jill didn’t blame him for being upset about it. She was in the middle of beating herself down for not having strong enough cardio and situation awareness to see where the woman had even run off to, “Why didn’t she go to the pharmacy? It was unlocked. The security’s atrocious.”

“Atrocious? Because the guy I interviewed didn’t even know how big the basement is? Or if there’s another entrance?” Jill snorted at his sarcasm, Chris puffed out his cheeks and then blew out, “Good question. High? Too high to think?”

“She was reading a file. Of everything down there. Unlocked meds, probably other valuables. Goes for the dusty ancient files. Why?”

“High.”

Maybe that was a fair answer. Jill tipped her head to the side again. She’d encountered plenty of people under the influence, and supposedly breaking into a hospital, forgetting her own plan, and then ending up reading files wasn’t beyond the scope of reason, “If she was so high she didn’t know what she was doing…” But she trailed off with the statement. Maybe she was reading far too deeply into this whole situation. Only their headlights shone ahead. Chris stomped the break and punched the horn at a deer standing on the side of the road.

The doe, eyes green reflecting the headlights, turned tail and bounded back into the thick undergrowth, “Fuck, almost hit her.”

“Bad time of night to drive around.”

“What were you saying?” He asked. Chris didn’t let her off the hook with these sorts of things. It made him a good partner. He wanted to hear every thought she had—even if she was halfway uncertain.

“Why couldn’t we catch her? She’s so high she can’t get into the pharmacy but we can’t catch her. So high that she has no idea what she’s doing but she can dodge a tazer.”

“Drugs make people do weird things.”

“I know.” Jill did, she’d once worked the streets of Albany. She’d seen her fair share of people under the influences of substance—both legal and not, “I’m thinking too deeply.”

“No. You’re not. I am too. It was a weird one. Hopefully she went and slept it off and she’s on her way to sobriety in the morning.” He turned their SUV into the lot of the station—old and dark. A single light on in the window of the reception area. They came in the back door, flicking on the lights and heading for their desks.

Yellowed linoleum flooring, ancient computers. The dim light of Chief Irons’ lamp he always left on and Enrico’s office as he worked to write up his own write up of the night’s events, “Told you not to say the ‘q’-word.”

“Sorry. My bad.” Jill sank into her chair, the wheels squeaked while she scooted it under the desk and begun to type. The report and statements weren’t terribly long, and she made certain she stuck to the facts, nothing about the strange vibes she felt from the entire thing. _Write it up. Put it to bed. That lady is long gone and the dog was useless. _But she didn’t include those things.

At six in the morning, their shift ended. Another long stint watching the campground. Whoever had been shooting opted out of their illegal activities on this night, it seemed. The air was still. No more calls of bandana-wearing assailants engaging in criminal activity.

“Ever seen her before?” Jill asked. Chris had offered her a ride home and she was more than happy to oblige, considering her car had spent the last week in the shop. A bad transmission which wasn’t worth the money to fix. Jill temporarily found herself without a vehicle. The police station wasn’t too long of a walk from where she stayed—living in Hector’s small vacation cabin on the edge of the park. In the summer the walk was neither long nor hard, in fact she found it relaxing, but Chris’s offer was nice and they’d been mid conversation.

“No problemo.” He smiled his toothy smile. “Going to drop by Wesker’s anyway, get my lures back.” Albert Wesker. Jill’s across the street neighbor. Jill supposed she wouldn’t mind stopping by for a visit either.

“Ah. Thanks.” She climbed into the passenger side of Chris’s Jeep, thankful the shift had ended and no more emergency calls had sent them out running. _Getting soft. Out here in the country. _But Jill didn’t mind. It was fulfilling in its own way.

**\--**

**Thanks for reading. If you liked it let me know ** **😊 **


	3. CHAPTER 3

**Chapter 3: **

Chris drove down the winding preserve street, past the cabins which were being opened for the summer. Jill was glad for it. The winter was too quiet—the unnerving, loud, sort of silence. College students were always there, but they remained on the Main Street strip. Living out here in the woods had a strange feeling to it—the whole knowing every one of her neighbors and them trying to pawn leftover pizza on her was an alien thing to Jill.

That’s why she’d been thankful she and Chris hit it off so well—Hector worked in in New York, normally. Chris lived in an apartment on the strip, but Albert on the other hand, lived in the cabin across from the one where Jill stayed.

The sort of community where most of the cabin owners knew each other and were ecstatic to learn that Hector’s fiancé—a new Raccoon game warden—was to be living in their neighborhood. Somehow, they all knew about her, despite most still being out of town and her yet to meet the majority of them.

“Mind if we swing by Wesker’s? I have his lures.”

“’Course not.” Jill said. She liked Albert. He was closer to Chris than to her, but she found herself following Chris up to his door, “Sure he’s up?”

Chris looked down at his watch. It was a little past six in the morning, “Anyone else no. But he’s got work today. He probably already knows about the incident he missed.”

Jill peered sideways around the house. A soft glow streamed between the privacy curtains above the kitchen sink. _Lights on. He’s up. _But while she stepped sideways, peering around the side of Albert’s cabin, something else caught her attention.

The forest was grey with the first streaks of morning light, but she swore someone was walking. They were gone as soon as she saw them. Early risers weren’t uncommon out here. People liked to get an early start on their outdoor activities in Raccoon. She returned her attention to following Chris to the front door, their boots crunching on his gravel walkway. 

For a moment Jill had the strange feeling as if someone was coming up behind her. She stiffened and turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. Nothing. The locked, dark cabin of a vacationer who’d left it for the winter.

_You’re too damn keyed up over nothing. Definitely getting soft. _She used to have far worse calls when she was working a more populated area. Chasing a woman around a hospital shouldn’t have gotten her adrenaline pumping like this.

Chris raised his fist and pounded on Albert’s front door. Jill was halfway of the opinion that despite Albert’s work, they were probably dropping in too early for an unannounced visit, but she kept that to herself considering that her partner knew him far better. Albert opened the door, quickly at first, shoulders tense until he realized it was the two of them and relaxed.

“Jillian. Christopher.”

“Jill’s fine, really.” She smiled at him.

He was a tall, fit man. A swirl of slicked dirty blonde hair on his head and steely blue eyes. He was dressed in his charcoal scrubs, ID tag clipped to the hem of his shirt. ALBERT WESKER, MD EMERGENCY ROOM.

“Just put of coffee, would you like some?”

Jill found herself again afraid of intruding upon his morning routine, in her pause to formulate something to say Chris piped up: “I’d love some if you’re around. Would hate to make you late, though.”

“Nonsense. It’s been lonely out here this winter. Come in.”

And Jill followed Chris through the doorway. The two men exchanged their pleasantries as Chris presented Albert with his returned box of lures.

“Thank you for letting us in.” Jill smiled as he poured her a cup of coffee, “I appreciate it.”

“Always have to take care of Raccoon’s wardens.”

“Maybe not after you hear about last night.” Chris smirked.

Jill poured cream into her coffee, thanking Albert again when he took the carton from her hand to return it to his fridge. Albert had an immaculate hydroponic garden of peaplants set up on the breakfast bar between his joint living room and kitchen. He was an avid gardener, she’d heard through the grape vine, “Beautiful plants. Amazing you get them to grow this time of year.”

“Thank you.” He joined them at the table, setting his own steaming mug in front of his place, “What happened last night?”

“Someone…” Well, Jill supposed it wasn’t an open case so technically they could talk about it, “Someone broke in.”

“Where?”

“The hospital. A drug addict wandering around the basement.” Chris exhaled, puffing his cheeks out, “She knocked my ass down, but…Jill probably got a better look.”

“Hardly. Chased her out into the parking lot and lost her. It was all anti-climactic. Nothing missing as far as the hospital staff know.” Jill told him. Albert looked unflapped by the news.

“I’ll expect all forms of interesting embellished stories when I get in today.” He cracked one of his rare smiles. Albert was such an opposite of the talkative Chris, Jill found them an interesting pair. But the two settled into their discussion about success rates of various lures in catching river trout, and Jill smiled, glad to listen to the conversation.

“The rainbow trout were good the other day.” Albert said, “Got one. Lots biting.”

“The yellow worm worked for me.” Chris continued.

“What about you, Jill? Been out yet? You fish?” Wesker asked her.

“I’ve never fished, not really.” She waved her hand, “Some bluegill when I was a kid.”

Albert turned to Chris, “You got a game warden who doesn’t fish?” His words weren’t unkind. He was Albert. There probably wasn’t an ounce of snark in his body.

“I’ve got to get out there.” Jill stated, “I’ll get out there one of these days.”

“You’ve got to. Should come with Franklin and I. He’s big into it.” She knew he was. Their department was small, the state paid for the fish and game department for the park to have five rangers. But the village of Raccoon merely had four officers. Franklin was one of the four. 

“I’d like to.”

“Does Hector?”

“Supposedly.” Jill took a sip of coffee, “He’s got a rod and lures in the cabin that look like they haven’t been touched in ten years.”

They laughed, “He’s a city boy.” Chris grinned, “We got to train him up. Gonna be married to a warden.”

Jill smiled at that, relaxing into the impromptu visit. The diamond sparkled on her finger in the dim light of the kitchen, “He works in sales, doesn’t he?”

“Financial advisor.” She answered, “Helps a bunch of big-wigs in the city invest.”

Chris crinkled his nose, “He definitely needs a break fishing. He should come with the department sometime. The both of you.”

“Next time he’s in town. I’ll convince him.” Despite getting her settled into the cabin a few months prior, their joint hectic schedules hadn’t allowed for much time together other than the occasional weekend, and those weekends had been so jammed Jill could hardly imagine fitting more in. _He’ll be getting vacation time soon. He’s got to meet your friends here, eventually. _Hector never stayed in Raccoon long enough to meet friends of his own.

He’d probably like Albert and Chris.

But the time came for Albert to head in for his emergency room shift. She and Chris and packed themselves up to head out of his door. She was more than ready to shower and fall into bed. Her shift was catching up with her, and she had to get some rest and food in her before the next.

“Thanks again for the ride, Chris.” Jill waved to him, stepping off of Albert’s gravel sidewalk.

“Do you want a lift to your place?”

“It’s across the way.” Jill pointed to Hector’s cabin, “I’ll manage. Thanks.”

“Sure. See you tonight, Jill!”

And he clamored into his white jeep, fired her up, and pulled out of the driveway.

It was shaping up to be a warm spring morning, the air maintained it’s May morning bite of chill, but the sun was baking her uniform. _Summer is coming. Finally. _

Her neighbor, an elderly woman whose name Jill couldn’t remember, waved to her. Jill waved back. A small dog tore out of a front of the cabin kitty-cornered to her, barking and snarling at something.

_Deer. Oh, deer. Oh, dog. _But the dog wasn’t looking at the woods. Jill had the strange feeling of being watched once more. She looked over her shoulder, back at the woman who was working in her garden and facing the opposite direction.

But Jill couldn’t shake the feeling. The dog’s screeching barks shook the quiet of Forest Avenue’s morning routine. The dog’s barking turned to a razor-back snarls, and Jill whirled around the direction he faced. Nothing. Hector’s cabin and the next door neighbor, one with shutters nailed over the windows still from the winter. _What the hell? _

It was probably nothing. Little dogs barked. She wasn’t witnessing anything groundbreaking here. But…she’d never heard that dog barking before. Never so worked up. And Jill wasn’t sure she liked that he was barking in the direction of her own home.

A turkey stalked out of the brush and trotted several meters only to disappear again. The dog went wild. _Hah. Go to bed, Jill. _

She marched up to her own front door, digging for the key in her pocket. 

Someone moved between her house and the neighbors. Human height, not turkey height. Jill startled, stepping back from her door and walking along the side of her home.

Her backyard and that of her neighbors. The grass that she needed desperately to mow, but she didn’t have the energy to right now. Nothing out of place. No people, nor animals. The dog was calming his barking, now that the turkey threat had moved on. Another of the lumbering birds flapped in the undergrowth. Jill ignored it.

_Go to bed. _The words rang in her head again, _just go to bed. Nothing’s here. Your keyed up for literally nothing. _Nonetheless, Jill took another pacing walk down the tree line behind the row of houses. No humans nor animals seemed concerned with her presence, or present at all, in the case of humans.

She backed up and let herself in her back, sliding glass door. Jill glanced out one last time, drew the curtains and locked the door behind her. She plopped her radio onto its charger and pulled off her belt. Tazer and pistol into the lockbox in her hall closet.

Curtains in her bedroom already drawn in the feeble effort to trick her brain into believing it was dark outside, Jill was thankful to shower and wiggle into her sweatpants for the day. She pulled her tablet from its spot on her bedside table and went about surfing the news.

Some clickbait stories she had no interest in but wasn’t tired enough to fall asleep yet. Maybe she shouldn’t have drank coffee with Albert.

She opened google and decided to explore some of her curiosities about her new home for herself.

_Raccoon General Hospital _

It was the first, most relevant result. But the website was neat, well maintained and professional. Smiling faces and a woman looking into a microscope.

Welcome to Umbrella Pharmaceutical—Cutting Edge Medical Technologies

Our Business is Life Itself!™

She was familiar with the company. It was hard not to be. _Huh, didn’t know they were Raccoon Hospital’s Sponsor. _It was a leading cancer research corporation. Jill was fairly certain the knee brace she owned for when she went running had the trademark red and white logo stamped upon it in iridescent blue. 

_ RACCOON HOSPITAL RESEARCH CENTER:_

_ Working on genetic studies for pancreatic, liver, and breast cancers._

_ Newly diagnosed? Your journey starts here. _

_ Raccoon is a village located on the boarder of Arklay State Park. The village offers ample economical rentals for families and patients, Raccoon is an ideal location for those interested in clinical trials. A quiet, scenic town—perfect for rest and recovery!_

_ FALL INTERNSHIPS AVAILABLE! STUDENTS APPLY HERE:_

The university had some deal with the town hall, as did patients coming to the hospital. Jill knew that much but not the specifics. It was mainly a research center—cheap lab space and modern facilities which medical schools utilized. That was what Albert told her. The reserved housing for students and patients had ended up a roadblock for her when she’d first apartment shopped on Main Street.

Jill closed her laptop, set it down, and curled on her side. She watched the sun streaming through her curtains and eventually fell into a restless sleep—

Dreaming of dogs barking and turkeys in her backyard and someone tall walking away from her, disappearing into the woods. Jill woke before her alarm to a strange noise. She bolted upright. “Hector?” She swore she’d heard the sliding glass door open.

Jill stood up, pressing her back against the bedroom wall. Her pistol was locked in the hall closet. But she had her baseball bat and it was heavy in her hands.

She could text Hector. Or Chris. Tell them someone was in her house.

_Or just call the police. _Although Jill found calling into the police station for a false alarm mortifying.

“Hello?” She called again, out her door. Jill cracked the bedroom door and peered down the short hallway—an advantage of a cabin. There wasn’t a lot of room to hide in this little place. Jill stepped forward again, peering into the bathroom door. Empty. As was the closet where she kept her gear. She stepped forward again, heart thumping in her chest.

A breeze came across the kitchen—no one was there, but the windows were open, and the dark sky over the trees looked as if they were in for a thunderstorm.

_You left a window open. Settle down. _Jill enjoyed the fresh air when she was sleeping, but the gusting wind and generally unsettled feeling she had in her chest made her decide to pull it shut. _No one was in the house. Wind. In for a storm. _Looking out the back glass doors, dark clouds gathered over the trees. She glanced across her table, her keys on the counter and some of her junk mail which had been blown against the wall. _Get more rest. You have to go to work later. _

But damn, Jill could swear she still felt eyes on her from those woods.

\---

Thanks for reading. Please drop a comment 😊


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to my readers : ) I hope this is something you guys are enjoying somewhat. I’ve watched too many Hallmark movies and have a thing for wicked slow burn romance. **

**Chapter 4: **

“Watch out.” Chris stopped mid-sentence, head snapping up from the GPS on their SUV. Normally wardens patrolled alone, but the Raccoon department was down a vehicle. Meaning they were in pairs for the time being. Not that Jill minded—having someone beside her made the night pass faster.

She glanced up. A white man with a grey goatee and shaved head approached them. He clutched his rifle in his hands—she’d grown accustomed to most of the people they saw being armed. Though, it wasn’t technically a hunting season for any manner of wildlife, “Wricky alert.”

“Wricky-with-a-‘w’.” Chris hummed. Jill might not have known everyone in town yet—but she knew Wricky. Wricky was hard not to know when you worked in law enforcement.

Chris cast her a side-eyed grimace before putting on a smile and rolling down the window of the SUV, “Hey there, Wricky. How are you?”

“Redfield. Valentine. Good day officers.” He said, holding his rifle. Wricky was harmless, she’d been assured over and over, but the way he approached their vehicle with his weapon made her uneasy.

The following seconds consisted of Wricky glancing between them, the silent decision of who he was going to address. She and Chris would joke about that later. Wricky decided on Chris today, fixating on him with wide blue eyes, “Patrolling?”

“We are. Is there an issue?” Chris answered.

“Good. Good, good.” Wricky nodded along as he spoke, “Good to hear.”

“Not hunting, are you?” From Chris’s tone, she knew he meant it more as a joke—of all of Wricky’s issues, being a rule breaker wasn’t one of them.

“No, no. Protection. Never know out here.”

“Right.” Chris answered, a few moments of silence passed.

“Do you need something, Wricky?” Jill leaned forward in her seat to make easier eye contact with him.

“Just…was thinking I was hearing some weird sounds. Any people gone missing lately?”

Jill blinked at that, “No.” She stated. In any other situation such a statement would have been a glowing red flag. But this was Wricky. And she knew from experience that Wricky was very concerned about various conspiracies which were apparently caused by paranormal phenomena—including, but limited to: alien abductions, a bigfoot and once a hellhound (and that had only been while Jill was present).

He leaned in closer, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and gripping the windowsill, “Getting a little in my space, bud.” Chris stated, and Wricky promptly took a step back.

“You’d tell me, right, tell us?” He glanced over his shoulder, “If there was something to be worried about. Heard on the radio about the UFO sightings in Colorado this morning. Did you hear?”

“I didn’t.” Chris answered.

“You will.” Wricky stated, “Reckon they’re flying this direction. Haven’t seen anything but I’ve been looking around the property. Weird noises in the woods tonight.” He dug out a tin of tobacco from his back pocket and tucked a pinch into his cheek. He offered the tin into the car window to Chris who held his hand up.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Wricky shrugged, “I’m going to keep patrolling myself. But I’ve got a radio. I’ll send a call in if I see anything.”

“You have a radio?”

“Got it from the chief.” He explained, “Chief Irons. Said it would be good for me to have—help out if I’m needed.”

Jill and Chris exchanged glances. It took her a moment to realized he meant the scanner that the Chief gifted him. Nonetheless, she smiled and nodded, “Okay. Sounds good.” She told him.

Chris followed her lead: “Uh. Okay, have a good night, Wricky.”

“Watch yourselves out there. Weird stuff, I’m telling you.”

The same thing he told them every time he saw them. Jill and Chris drove off before they laughed. “Hey, he made eye contact with you at least.”

“You think he actually has a radio?” Chris asked her. 

“Maybe we should check on that.” Jill muttered, unable to imagine Irons handing him anything of the sort.

“You want to be the one who takes Wricky’s radio away? He’s afraid of all governing bodies as it is.”

“No. I don’t.” She smirked, shaking her head, “Watch out for aliens, Chris. I’d hate this night if we ended up abducted.”

“Jill, I promise I’m not going to get us abducted.”

“Remind me, Chris: how much experience with aliens do you have?”

Chris chuckled, “I’ve been pretty good at avoiding them thus far in my life so here’s to continuing that. Wricky sees all sorts of those things, though.”

“If someone shoots a rake…or a bigfoot…or the lake monster that lives in the pond behind my house…” Jill trailed off, “Do we give them a tag for it? How does that work?”

“We fine them. If it’s out of season.” Chris answered, deadpan serious. Jill snorted and took a swig from her water bottle.

The radio crackled, _“Redfield, Valentine. You there?” _

“Copy that, we’re here, Sully.” Kenneth Sullivan and Chris were practically inseparable.

“You still camping this weekend, Chris?”

Of course, that’s what the call would be about. Jill rolled her eyes. She was driving, giving Chris to have time to talk about nothing of much subsidence with the man. “Jill?” Sully asked, “You coming?”

“I’m not.” Although, the idea of taking Chris’ jeep out into some of the sparser trails of Arklay’s park was interesting, and the secondary excitement wore off on Jill, “Hector’s in town.”

Their shift passed quietly, the department rumbling with rumors about the hospital (which was strange to Jill, considering how insignificant an attempted robbery seemed to be in the big picture).

Dispatch ordered them to take a sweet around the hospital again. Jill decided against complaining about that wasn’t in her best interest, “Is that normal?” She asked Chris.

He rolled his dark eyes, “Small town. They get paranoid.” And that made her laugh again.

Jill twisted her ring back onto her finger when she got into the locker room, thankful for her upcoming weekend.

She opened a text from Hector, heart fluttering a bit when she saw he’d send her something of an apology with a sad face. Her old phone struggled to load the message past the preview.

_Come on, come on. _She tapped the side of the case lightly against her open hand.

_I’m so sorry, Jillian. I won’t be able to catch the flight this afternoon. Held up in meetings. Stocks dropped in three of the companies my client is investing in. Ugh. _

She quickly breathed a sigh of relief. No emergency. She could live with that.

_No worries. I’m off to bed. Have a good day! _

Did that sound okay? She had a habit of overthinking, but her own job held her up on more nights than she could count—especially in the early days of dating Hector.

He sent her back a heart and wished her a good sleep. Jill smiled, feeling the loneliness of living alone in a cabin. What was she going to do without a car the next three days where she didn’t work? Maybe there was overtime up for grabs.

Captain Marini or Chief Irons would let her know that if she was needed. On her way home Wesker stopped her, standing in his front yard, watering his plants. 

Jill waved to him and went to join him. Normally she was one to go straight home, but Wesker was one of the rare people who put her at ease enough to extend her day for socializing. He was quiet, never forced activity or conversation, and for that Jill was always grateful, “Good-morning.” She stated, smiling at his plants, “They look nice.”

“Thanks. Trying to get them to stop wilting. We’re desperate for rain.”

“Yeah. Everything’s getting dry. How are the hydroponic peas?”

“They’re fine.” Stated, turning to look at her.

“Use them for cooking?” She asked.

“Fresh vegetables are the best.” He answered, “That and they’re a project—the first geneticists studied pea plants. I always think it’s fascinating to go back to the basics. Something we lose sight of too much in medicine.” His garden had been freshly tilled, metal signs designating the areas for where he would plant vegetables. Arklay State Park normally wasn’t a fire risk, as far as she knew. That would be interesting to hear about, and she was certain she’d receive an email update if it were relevant. Maybe Wesker knew.

“So do these forests ever…catch fire?” That sounded idiotic coming out of her mouth but Wesker didn’t flinch.

“Not in years. Some start sometimes, but it’s rare. Probably better to be careful with fires in general no matter where you are but that’s not my area of expertise.”

Jill chuckled, “Good answer. Very political.”

“Working on my campaign.” Wesker cocked a smirk.

“I can tell. What’s your platform? Less people getting themselves hurt in stupid ways when you have late night shifts?”

“If they didn’t I might be out of a job.” Wesker turned off the hose and rolled it around its spool, turning the plastic crank pausing to arrange it neatly with each rotation, “Where’s Chris?”

“He’s getting sleep before a date tonight. Finally got that waitress to go with him.” Jill answered, “Then he’s camping with Kenneth.”

“I never see you two apart lately.” Wesker replied, “I’m glad you stopped by.”

“Guess it comes with the job.”

“Isn’t your fiancé coming? Hector’s his name, right?” 

“Doesn’t look like he’s going to make it this weekend. Work got busy for him. Looks like it’s just cross-fit for me tonight.”

“I’ll see you there, then.” Wesker was a typical staple at the crossfit class Jill and Chris attended.

She noticed something, the ID tag which he still had attached to his belt, probably getting ready for a shift. The Umbrella Corporation Logo was stamped on it, “Do you work for Umbrella?” She was interested in making small talk.

“Eh.” Wesker looked at her strangely, and then down at his card, “Oh. I guess in name. They technically sponsor the hospital—fund most of the research there.” He said, “I’ll see you tonight.” And they bid their farewells. Jill wondered what the odds were of Chris showing up to the crossfit class which they usually attended on Thursday nights was. The V.P.D. had a deal with gym that offered the classes for their officers to attend for free—and attending a minimum number of classes monthly was a part of the department’s fitness requirements. Jill figured she ought to get some sleep before she went.

_Hey. At least you get to hang out with Chris and Wesker. _But she could have done with the rental car Hector would have brought for the weekend. Jill was going to have to walk herself to Main Street to get one in the morning. She jumped on her computer when she got home—the normal ritual of sitting in bed and distracting her racing mind until she grew tired enough to lay down and find sleep.

After checking that she had the safety latch on her window to prevent the wind startling her awake, Jill opened the browser, unable to find anything on the news or any fiction website which entertained her enough to read, until she came across an article.

UNEXPLAINED MISSING PEOPLE IN NATIONAL PARKS

A few sentences in and she realized that the article was probably far more Wricky’s cup of tea than her own, a franticly written piece about people lost and never found under strange circumstances. Sad but true, she was sure, but perhaps not for the reasons claimed within the text. Arklay state park was one of the bunch listed. The park was massive and with the mountains, alleged caves, and rapid white water rivers— the terrain was dangerous, as was the fact that both black bears and mountain lions were found in the region. Things unfortunately happened in such large spaces isolated from help. Thankfully she was yet to have a call for a lost person they couldn’t locate. Morbid curiosity got the better of her and Jill surfed through the websites list of parks until she came to:

ARKLAY STATE PARK***

Arklay State Park is what us in the field call a “cluster site” for unexplained missing persons and paranormal activity. This activity includes but isn’t limited to: strange activity which appears to be military in nature, unidentified creature sightings, specter sightings and missing people.

Keep head on swivel if you visit the park. I cannot stress this enough.

Jill found herself grinning and going for her phone, copying the link and sending it to Chris.

Think we should be worried?

Her phone chimed almost instantly. 

What the fuck did you just send me?

She smirked, giving him several minutes to delve into the website as she had. And sure enough: her phone chimed:

Yes. Absolutely. I’m worried. I think it’s bigfoot. Did Wricky send you this? Is he at breakfast with you and Hector?

Jill heaved a sigh and texted Chris back:

Hector didn’t make his plane. Party of one over here. Have fun on your date.

From Chris: Damn. Bummer. Sorry you had to walk home. Thanks. 

She replied: Don’t be. It’s a beautiful morning and I walk to work all the time.

Before she went to close the top of the computer, something caught her attention on the conspiracy theory page.

A first aid station, once operated by Umbrella Bio-Technologies (_Umbrella Corporation, _Jill found herself silently correcting) and The Raccoon Department of Fish and Game, was shut down. We don’t know why the station, further out in the park to facilitate rescues was shut down, and the department has not returned my calls for inquisition, but perhaps there was something dangerous out there?

_But Umbrella, huh. Somebody looking for medical crap? Research files? _

Though nothing had gone missing according to the hospital, and Jill had to make herself get some sleep. She heaved a sigh, switched the computer off, and curled on her side. Alone, listening to the morning birds chirp and distant voices in the neighborhood.

She turned to her back, staring at the ceiling. Even with the blackout curtains she could tell that it wasn’t nighttime, and where normally it didn’t bother her, this morning it grated on her nerves. With her empty bed and lack of fiancé—it wasn’t Hector’s fault, she knew. But it was still disappointing.

_You’ll live. _

Jill grabbed her laptop again.

Umbrella Corporation current research

She came to the same sight, browsing through various research projects. Some scholarly articles about cancer research and the efficacies of their medications. _Because they’re going to post trade secrets online, Jill. _She thought sarcastically, _the same way they’d leave them in ancient filing cabinets in moldy basements. _

This time she did close the screen. _It doesn’t matter—she didn’t steal anything. Leave work at work. And go to bed. _It was never a strong suit of hers, but between the cool fresh air flowing in on the breeze and her blankets wrapped around her, Jill fell asleep.

_She was walking, headed into the basement. Her flashlight bobbed in front of her. _

_ Jill couldn’t focus. Only on putting one foot in front of the other. Each step was agonizing, for some reason she couldn’t find her balance. She was going to trip and fall. _

_ And she did, knee into the mud. _

_ She squinted, struggling to see. Flashlight? Where did her flashlight go? Jill cursed herself for her lack of organization. She’d probably dropped it when she stumbled, but she couldn’t go back. Sully and Chris were too far ahead. She’d get lost. _

_ Jill opened her mouth to call out but no words came out. _

_ She knew she’d already been here, in this moldy cabin, and knew how it would play out. But she was anxious. Heart pounded in her mouth. She reached for the basement door. _

_ And then she was in the basement of Raccoon General. The horrible peeling paint on the green cinderblocks. Heart knocked harder. Chris? Where was Chris? She looked left and right but something propelled her forward. _

_ She had to go forward. _

_ She had to get through the next door way. _

_ Jill knew exactly who was waiting behind that door, but she still made her jump. Tall and thin and beneath her hoodie. Spindly legs sticking from boots too wide on her calves. _

_ “Look at me.” Jill’s own words echoed in the room around them, “What are you doing? Turn around. Hands up.” She realized she didn’t have her weapon. _

_ A few seconds of patting on her belt found her holster empty. Jill swallowed the lump in her throat, squeezing her hands into fists while the stranger whipped around. _

She startled herself awake, gasping for breath, sweating beneath her blankets. Jill shoved them off, checking the time on her phone. Hardly noon.

_Stress dreams. I hate stress dreams. _

She had no reason to be stressed. Nothing bad happened at work. For once this week she wasn’t overtime. _Enjoy your days off. _She settled back against the pillows and dozed again, thankful to sleep restfully.

Chris wasn’t at class that evening, as expected with the date and camping thing, and Jill settled into her spot beside Wesker at the weight rack, “Did you see that truck driving around the neighborhood today?” Wesker asked her.

“No. What truck?” Jill bent down to touch her toes and counted back from fifteen silently.

“Just a truck driving around, Martha next to you was upset about it. I figured you were sleeping or else I would have texted you. Guessing lost tourists.” Wesker stated.

But if unflappable Wesker mentioned it, there was probably something more to it. Or at least more suspicious than he was letting on, “Were they doing something weird?” Jill asked him between their warmup set of squats.

“Looked like they were turning around.” Wesker answered after a moment, “Just was a strange place for it. Was wondering if you knew them.”

“I didn’t get any visitors this afternoon, at least none that I was awake for.” Jill smirked but Wesker didn’t return it. Back to his normal stone-faced self, “I found a website claiming people are being kidnapped by bigfoots in the forest out here. Know anything about that?” She was trying to make conversation.

“You’re the game warden.” Wesker replied, and then they started the running portion of the class, music blasting and a list of deadlifts and laps to be run around the hallways of the warehouse building the gym leased left for them on the board.

Jill managed to beat Wesker out the door for once, putting her head down to run. First lap. She breathed in her nose and out her mouth. One of the men was gaining on her but Jill kicked up her pace—she could run.

“REDFIELD! AREN’T YOU ON A DATE?” One of the men in the class, another warden, Forest, boomed. Friends with Chris, of course (as everyone was). Jill looked up, seeing the familiar form of a tall man coming toward her. He was broad and olive skinned, deep brown eyes and wavy dark hair. 

“CHRIS!” She yelled toward him, increasing her tempo to keep the man behind her from out pacing her, “Get back to that restaurant!” Chris peeled off. They were supposed to run laps up and back down the hallway, but he joined Jill at her side, “You okay?”

“She didn’t show. Waited an hour. Thought I’d run here before camping.”

“Fuck, Chris. I’m sorry.” Chris made a shrugging motion as he jogged alongside her, their breathing echoing on the walls around them, “Where’s Hector!?”

“Missed his plane.”

Chris swore, “You coming camping? Got the top off the Jeep!”

Jill laughed, “I don’t own a tent!”

“Sleep in the jeep! We can roll the top back on if it rains.”

“Give me a half hour after this class to get packed up! And get some snacks!”

“What do you want?” He asked her. He was going slow, distracted, they were talking rather than actually working out as they were supposed to be. 

“Let’s get donuts.”

And so they did. A tall figure came into the café while they waited for their order. Chris said something but she was distracted.

With the reflection against the decorative mirror in the cafe, she could see clearly behind her, “Jill?”

“Instinct.” She said, and she could see in Chris’s reflection that his eyes were on the narrow, tall girl as well.

The same things she’d noticed before. It was a different hoodie but something about her posture had familiarity. The hood drawn, the spindly legs, the way she hunched to keep her face covered, “Similar.” He stated, taking a swig of coffee. They couldn’t do anything here. She wasn’t technically charged with a crime—sure, breaking in entering—but the hospital had been certain they were against pressing charges.

Chris made a move toward her, “Chris.” Jill hissed.

“I’m charming.” He put on his smile and she didn’t relax, but she swiveled on the bar stool upon which she sat. Chris walked toward the woman, who was standing at the counter, waiting for her coffee. She drummed her fingers on the countertop.

The same way Jill had seen her do it before, “Hi.” Chris approached her, “Excuse me.”

She whirled around. And while Jill wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but something more along the lines of a dirty, homeless drug addict than the actuality.

She was beautiful, flawless dark skin and ringlet curls falling around her shoulders. A narrow, pointed chin. Striking amber eyes.

She cocked her head sideways and pulled her sunglasses from her head over her eyes. Weird. Considering it was dark out. “Hi.”

Chris extended his hand, “Did we meet last night? At that restaurant? I’m Chris.”

“We didn’t.” Something was ice in her voice, she took a step back from him, hitting the counter with her bottom, and cocked her head in the other direction as if trying to peer at him from a different angle. _Weird habit. Maybe she is high. What’s up with the glasses? _

Chris still stood there with his hand outstretched. _Come on, Chris. You work that charm. _Jill watched the exchange through her peripherals. The girl working behind the counter handed Jill their box of donuts. She took it and muttered a “thanks”. 

“Oh.” He said, pulling his hand away as the woman stood and stared him down.

“Your coffee, ma’am.” She reached and took it from the counter without pulling her glare from Chris.

“I’m not the girl you met. Good night.” She spun on her heel, yanked her hood further over her face and walked out the door. The bell chimed as she disappeared. Chris took the hand that he’d had outstretched and ran it through his hair.

He stalked back to his place beside Jill, “She was onto me. Normally that works.”

“Got a better look at us than we did at her.” Jill mused, “Smooth though, nice work.”

“She’ll probably skip town. No more weird things happen and we don’t have to worry about it.” His voice was low, “Something was off with her.”

Jill turned her head sideways, mimicking the gesture, “Really?”

“Yeah. What’s up with that? Odds are it’s not the same person. Probably just weirded her out.” And she agreed with Chris’ assertion there.

Jill grabbed her backpack as Chris dropped her off, seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Pasty white skin, dark circles under her eyes from the long week. _Oh well. The wilderness doesn’t give a shit what you look like. _Wet bobbed hair scooped halfway into a ponytail as best as she could manage. She tossed on a fleece and crammed her rain slicker into her backpack. Hector had bought her a sleeping bag and battery lantern which she grabbed along with her partial box of granola bars in the cupboard and one of the gallon water jugs she kept around in case the power went off and her pump stopped working.

One strap slung over her shoulder, Jill managed to get herself out the door as Kenneth and Chris rocked up in his Wrangler. Jill gripped the roll bar and hoisted herself into the back bench through the open side. Kenneth handed her a coffee cup that he and Chris apparently got from the only fast food joint in town.

“Any word from the girl?” Kenneth’s teeth were white as he smiled, Chris gripped the wheel a little harder.

Her attention turned to Chris, “Yeah. Nah. Nothing.”

“Where’d you meet her?” Jill asked.

“On a dating app.” Chris grumbled, “Fuck.”

“Those are sketchy sometimes.” Jill muttered, “Think she was a real person?”

“She works at the formal Italian place! She’s in town! I have no idea but she’s totally radio silent. At least I didn’t have to buy dinner.”

Jill grabbed one of the donuts out of the box they’d purchased.

“Aren’t you supposed to be charming?” She took another sip of her coffee. It was bitter with the sugar in her mouth from the donut. Wind whipped the loose majority of her hair with the open sides and top to the vehicle, “it’s nice to hang out with you, though. Good start to the weekend.”

It was strange having her body on the schedule of long overnight shifts. She used to start work with the sunrise rather than end with it, not that she minded.

“Donuts are a good start to most things.” Sully said.

“Unless you’re Wesker. He wasn’t too happy about donuts after work.”

“He’s at home eating peas. Guarantee it.”

“They are growing fresh in his kitchen.” Jill snorted. Her eyes returned to the window. A tall figure came into the café. Chris said something but she was distracted. He took her past her cabin, further than she walked on her weekend hikes, suspension bouncing on the dirt road as the foliage grew thicker.

\---

**Thanks for reading : ) Comments give me life**


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to my readers.

This is one of those things that probably could be an original novel but it’s been a Resident Evil pet project for so long that I’ve got to stick with it I think.

: )

\---

The wind rushing past her head dried her hair into the ponytail, it pulled taught against her scalp. Jill leaned her head back, curling her knees to her chest and gripping the metal frame of the vehicle while Chris took them down the trail, “We have to show her the cabin.” Sully said, turning to look over his shoulder at Jill.

Jill squinted at him, “Cabin? You have a cabin out here?”

He playfully slapped Chris’ bicep with the back of his hand, “Y’all didn’t tell her about the damn cabin?” As if it were some huge revelation.

“She’s already dealt with Wricky, didn’t want it to get too weird!”

Jill squinted at the two of them, “Get weird, huh? Isn’t that what you were supposed to do with that waitress?”

Chris groaned, “No. The cabin. I’ve told you about the cabin? The weird one out in the middle of nowhere. It’s near the campsite.”

Jill blinked, “The weird taxidermy place—”

“Or where ghosts hang out, whatever story you prefer.” Sully added twisting in the chair. Chris slowed down, the tires jarred over rocks in the partially washed out trail. Jill had never been to this section of the park. They were getting further than the normal stomping grounds of tourists. She and Wesker would walk occasionally, but they never went remotely this far (and Wesker’s expensive sedan wasn’t about to be taken on trails).

Chris turned off the trail where a large tree had recently been marked with orange plastic tape, seemingly taking them straight into the undergrowth. Branches scraped the frame of the car with a jarring, squeaking sound against the paint. 

Jill watched the sky darkening above their heads, painted orange with sunset. She had a small flashlight on her housekeys for which she used her nails to free from its ring.

The cabin loomed in front of them, and immediately she thought of Wricky and all the forest conspiracy theories she’d busied herself reading in her spare time—it was rotting wooden siding, overgrown with vines and a mossy roof. A perfect setting for a deranged killer to set up shop, Jill figured.

Chris slammed the Jeep into park and Jill lifted herself out from beneath the roll bar, “Nice place”. She stated.

“Isn’t it?” Chris elbowed her. A rotting shingle crunched beneath her boot. The door, mostly off its hinges, let out a piercing squeak as Sully pulled it open. Jill flicked on her flashlight, the little piece on her key chain which Hector’s mother bought her for ‘safety’ hardly illuminated anything, although the last yellow of sunlight of the evening filtered through filthy windows.

The floor was sagging, and Jill was uneasy stepping on it, sticking near the perimeter as Chris and Sully did, “There a basement?” She scowled at bits of glass crunching underneath her boots.

“Yeah. If you’re not careful you might end up in it.” Sully told her. Jill snorted.

“Surprised Forest isn’t here.”

“He actually is getting laid tonight.” Sully continued, “Sorry, Redfield. Too soon?”

Chris said nothing for a moment, eventually coming up with: “Who needs love when you have the wilderness.”

“That’s the spirit.” Jill muttered, but she was intrigued by this strange place. Molding taxidermy lined a mantle above an old stone fireplace. A turkey with the feathers puffed out, the head of a white tail, and then, strangely enough, what Jill recognized as a gazelle. _That’s not from Arklay, _“Why’d they leave all this?” She brought her fingertips to a laminated posted describing the use of medicinal plants around the preserve, it was dated, yellowed and faded with age. Jill used her garbage flashlight to read a passage about red clover tea making.

Maybe she would try that when she was back at her cabin. There was plenty of it growing along the woods behind her house. Too bad she’d left her phone in the car or else she would have snapped a picture.

She followed Sully and Chris, hugging the walls, “It’s weird. Not sure I’d go creepy.” Jill stated.

A list of safety protocols was hung on the opposite wall, some gibberish about recording security records, mostly molded and no longer legible, “Wait until you see the basement.” Chris said.

“Not the fast way through the floor I hope.” Jill glanced again at the sagging, shattered tiles. But Sully, the bravest, apparently, opened the basement door. It was heavy, reminded Jill of a safe. “Hell do they have down here? It’s a blast door.”

“Wait ‘till you see it.” Sully teased, and Jill’s attention was fully peaked. Some part of her was thankful for the change of nights plans. As nice as dinner would have been and despite owning a cabin in the residential area of the preserve, this sort of thing was far from Hector’s favorite. He enjoyed prime rib and red wine aboard some decommissioned train cars which was apparently the height of Raccoon’s fine dining more so than he enjoyed cooking anything over a fire, Jill imaged.

“Oh, I’m ready.” She was in the lead down the stairs, Chris close behind her. He had a better flashlight, which he handed wordlessly to Jill and she thanked him. It was a dank, wet basement. Stinking of mold worse than the upstairs with the lack of airflow. The light beam caught stainless paneling on the walls and more tiling on the floors, although not so treacherous and sagging this time.

“What the hell?” She muttered. The centerpiece of the room was an old gurney, the padding long since vermin-eaten and scattered in crumbs across the floor.

“Creepy?” Chris asked, as if looking for her to sign off on the room as being an adequate level of spooky.

“Creepy.” Jill smiled, “First aid center?”

“Shouldn’t have been.” Sully answered, “Nothing on the records.”

She was the next one to get brave to open doors, another storage closet which she pulled open—immediately meeting a wall of cinderblocks. “That was locked.” Chris stated, “We cut the bolts off but it’s bricked off.”

“That’s weird.” Jill knocked her fist lightly against the cement, but of course it was solid under her skin. She was smiling—couldn’t help herself. Something about these strange, spooky things always peaked her attention. Chris came to her side, grinning as well.

“Could you imagine if Wricky found this thing?”

“We would never hear the end of the government hiding down here and using it to tap our phones, that’s for damn sure.”

Jill stepped back to swing the heavy door back closed over the bricks, “What’s the theory?” Sully asked her, as if he’d expected her to come up with some back story for the residence. Jill paused to think.

“Is that a quiz or are you actually asking?”

“Actually asking. If you could think of anything this place would be—what is it?”

Jill paused for a moment, “First aid center in some summer camp we don’t know about that existed fifty years ago. Girl scouts need first aid. Skinned knees. Pinched by a crawfish.”

“Aw, come on. That’s it?”

“It’s not so bad.” Jill laughed, going for the rusty medical cabinets and pulling the first one open. A fully disintegrated box of tongue depressors. The other drawers were empty save for a jug of what she assumed based on the lingering smell was rubbing alcohol, that one’s label long since rotted off. She shoved the rusted drawer closed. “If either of you get a splinter I can take care of it down here, no problem.” 

“That so?” Chris asked.

“Who do you trust more. Me or Wesker?” Jill teased.

“You. Definitely. Never trust a doctor.”

“I’ll sew your leg back on for you.” She stated, “Sure Sully’s got a sewing kit somewhere.”

“Forgot it in my other pants.”

“Looking forward to it next time.” Chris shouted after him as he was already heading back up the stairs. He turned back to Jill, “Weird though, right?”

“Actually yeah. All jokes aside. Pretty weird. The bricks behind the locked door is what got me. You have no idea who owned this place?”

“No idea. And look at the fucking straps on the table.” Chris stated, Jill hadn’t noticed the rotting leather. 

A fresh bit of generally creeped-out-ness settled into her gut, “So you guys just found this place?”

“About a year ago. And it’s a protected reserve. No permits for building out here so we went in. Irons chewed us out about it—no warrant. But the door was left open and we just did it.”

Jill was intrigued, “He know what used to be out here?”

“No. Pulled some records—he was curious too. But not supposed to be anything. Up until about fifty years ago they used to be pretty loose about all that. Apparently there was some military and cold-war bullshit and army ranger training or something out on the other side of the mountain range, so best we could think is that this used to be for that.”

“Now you’re being too normal about it.” Jill absentmindedly picked at the rotting foam, “Organ harvesting? Doctor Frankenstein? Those are the stories I like reading.”

“So you are a horror fan?”

“More science fiction.” She answered, “But yeah.”

“Predator?” Chris asked her.

“Prefer Alien myself, but until we pull those bricks down no way to know if one of them’s hiding down here.”

He made a motion toward the stairs as they both reached the bottom at the same time, and Jill accepted the offer of walking in front of him.

The night was pleasantly cool, their campsite was about a mile from the cabin on the banks of a creek further down which Chris apparently liked to fish. The fire crackled, Sully’s old coffee pot sat in the embers they pulled to the side to warm the percolator.

She made them toast on the fire and Chris stated that she should join them again the next time if Hector still hadn’t made it up. She relaxed near the warmth, feeling the heat through her fleece jacket. Maybe Hector would do this one day—come out to meet the other wardens and camp. He would enjoy them, she thought. Chris offered her a beer and she took it, handing them her box of granola bars to finish off. She sipped on it while it got warm in her hands, happily enjoying the quiet of the woods.

Eventually their conversations died down and Chris stood up, offering to help her put the soft-top back on the jeep— “It’s fine, really.” She assured him, “I’ll sleep under the sky. Unless you want her covered.”

Chris smiled at that, “No. No she’s fine. It’s a nice night.”

“It is. Beautiful stars out here.” Jill looked up, the dark trees and the night sky were a post card. Relaxing too. The preserve was so big it was unlikely to run into anyone to bother them out here. A puff of embers while Kenneth kicked the logs that were stacked on the fire, scattering it to speed the burning out.

“Good idea to move out all this way, then?” Chris asked. He offered her a cigarette. They stood, leaning against the Jeep.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” Jill mentioned.

“No. Only after a few drinks.” He told her.

She took it, “Hector would loose his goddamn mind.”

“You smoke?” Chris cocked an eyebrow at her.

“No. Only after a few drinks.”

Chris laughed, “Then why does he give a shit?”

“He thought I was going to have to have my lip amputated after I popped it open starting a snow blower. He gets _worried.” _

_“_I’m more worried about how you split your lip on a snowblower.”

“Slipped on ice. Wasn’t my best afternoon.” Jill didn’t make a habit of smoking, and she had just had a lovely evening, but maybe she was a touch annoyed by the last minute cancelation and that made her more willing to take the cigarette. A small annoyance which Hector never needed to know about: “I’ll bring beer next time.”

“So you do like camping?”

“I think I could get used to it.”

Chris handed her his lighter and she flicked it, just puffing the smoke into her mouth, “I hope so. You’re a game warden. Liking nature is kind of mandatory.”

“Show me more creepy cabins and I’ll be your best friend, Redfield.”

She fell asleep that night, cigarette and toast on her tongue, and staring up at the stars above the backseat. Jill dreamt of tall women wearing hoodies, stalking around hospital basements, and of following the woman into a moldy basement.

\---

Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which camping continues

Thanks again to all of my readers : )

Suggested Listening:

_Renholder _by: A Perfect Circle

__

Jill wasn’t sure what startled her awake. She blinked a few times, mouth dry, grouping for her water bottle. She swished the water in her mouth and spat out the open side of the car. Thank God Sully and Chris were asleep—not that they’d judge her for spitting, she figured.

The fire had burnt down to glowing embers, two lumps that she knew were Chris and Sully—apparently “too nice of a night” for tents. Or they’d been too tired and comfortable to put them up after a few rounds around the fire. Jill adjusted herself into a better position, using her jacket as cushion as she leaned against the side of the car.

Dim glowing embers made the shadows of the trees dance around them. Maybe Jill wasn’t used to being this far from civilization at night, but her relaxation turned to a prickling in the back of her neck. She tried to shake it off, something in her gut telling her to stay still, to not move too quickly. Some ancient self-preservation instinct.

_There’s nothing. _Her logical mind told her, but Jill found herself alert. Frozen, she scanned the trees. It was too dark to make out any shapes in much detail. _Deer? Get a grip. It’s a forest. Animals are around. _Jill tried to close her eyes for a moment, curling in on herself, almost asleep.

Something crunched behind her, behind the Jeep. Body turned static with focus, tingling through her veins.

Chris had a rifle under the seat, she knew. Carrying weapons with them wasn’t something they’d actually talked much about, especially not on this trip. There was bear spray in Sully’s pack, which he conveniently used as a pillow. Jill had her hand on her pocketknife which was tucked into her waistband. She kept herself still, eyes closed, listening.

_“Campers.” _She swore she heard a voice from behind the back of the car. She kept herself still. Eyes open again, on Chris and Sully and the dim orange light thrown by the embers, _“Leave them alone. It’s just their parked car.” _ Someone said, behind her again.

It occurred to Jill that they didn’t realize she was in the car. _Instinct. Trust your instinct. _She didn’t flinch. Eyes flicked to the vague shape which she knew was a locked gun case beneath the passenger seat_ (should you have brought a gun?). _

_“Think they’re some of ours?” _A whisper, they were behind the jeep. Her heart hammered. Jill drew breath through her nose.

_“No. Leave them alone. Just campers.”_

_“Think they saw anything? Is the woman with them?” _

Jill’s heart clenched at that. But she kept herself still. _Me? _

_“There’s just two people on the ground. Look under the car.” _The second man whispered, _“Who is that woman?” _

_“Boss wants to find her. Apparently police had a weird run-in in town—and she’s been spotted on a few of the trail cameras. These are just campers. Leave them alone. Go back. Jesus! Nothing would have gotten this far! Turn the light off!” _A frantic whisper. Jill’s heart throbbed in her head. Their footsteps backed off the Jeep, Jill sensed them moving around the edge of the campsite. Eyes open, not daring to move her head, they eventually entered her peripheral vision.

_What the fuck, what the fuck? _She kept still, grip tightening on her knife. They were getting closer to the men now, and Jill didn’t like that.

_Yell. If they get closer, yell. It will spook them. _Coming off like a startled crazy in the forest might be her best course of action here. The utility pocket knife was probably less than the best thing to try and do anything with. At least her shouting would scare Chris and Sully awake too.

Jill watched them. They were wearing bulky, black clothing. Kevlar vests.

_Weird. _They might have been armed, but she didn’t make out anything in their shadows other than one carrying a heavy duty flashlight, currently turned off. They disappeared into the trees. The flashlight turned on when they were several meters beyond the brush and eventually disappeared from view. Jill’s heart hammered.

_Gone. They’re gone. _She unfroze herself, working movement back into her arms. Another deep breath before moving herself slowly. No one was behind her. Just dark forest. But it all seemed alive now. Alive and moving.

Insects chirped and the wind rustled the branches. _Aw, fuck it. _Jill gripped the roll bar and hefted herself up, silently stepping onto the spongy grass in the clearing.

Head on a swivel. No people.

She crept herself to beside the fire. _“Chris.”_ She breathed, squatting beside him, “_You awake?”_

No reply. Jill debated for a moment before reaching out and nudging him in the back. He startled, “Huh?”

“Chris. Shh. There were people creeping around here a second ago.”

His head shot up, “Shh, shhh.” Jill said, “I think they’re gone. But it was weird.”

Sully let out a snore.

“Were they just campers?”

Jill clicked her phone. There was no reception, but the clock read it was three in the morning. _The bewitching hour. _She cringed as she thought it, “Look at the time.”

“Lost?” Chris tried, rubbing his face and scowling.

“Yeah. Maybe. Creepy. They were looking for some woman they said—it was definitely weird or I wouldn’t wake you.”

That had Chris’ attention, dark eyes meeting hers, “What?”

“They were talking about a woman they were looking for. They only noticed you two. They were hiding behind the Jeep. Got me all keyed up. They didn’t know I was in there.”

Jill sat herself down, drawing her knees up and feeling the pleasant heat of the embers through her worn jeans, “Where are they?”

“Went that way.” Jill pointed, “Disappeared into the woods. No weapons that I saw. Think lost?”

“Looking for a woman?” Chris sat up as well, looking the direction she was, “What did they say?”

“Talking about ‘a run in that the police had in town’.” Jill made quotation marks with her fingers.

“Hospital lady?” Chris asked her.

“Why would they care about hospital lady?” Jill shivered and hugged herself, “I’m a little sketched out by it.”

“Sully?” Chris tossed a rolled set of gloves at him, “Wake up! Me too I think on the sketched out.” He stood, stepping to the Jeep and grabbing a flashlight out of the glovebox and handing it to Jill. She held it for him while he pulled the gun case from beneath the seat.

“Fuck are you doing?” Sully asked from across the camp site.

“Some people were hiding behind the Jeep!” Chris answered him, Jill cringed at how loud he was.

_Time to go on the offence. _That was better than being spooked for the rest of the night. Chris loaded the clip into the hunting rifle and Jill kept the light aimed at his hands. “They were back here.” She showed them. Two sets of boot prints in the soft mud which they followed for several meters into the woods before Sully asked them:

“Is this really worth it? Think they’re dangerous?”

“Dangerous maybe. Creepy yes. They were talking about looking for a woman.” Jill stated.

“Maybe the woman from the hospital.” Chris added in.

“Doubtful.” Sully stated, “Why her? Why is everyone obsessed with her?” He rubbed his head.

“Obsessed with her?” Jill clarified.

“Yeah. Irons wouldn’t shut up about it. Somebody wanted pictures of her from the hospital cameras but he had to keep telling them that the cameras weren’t working.”

“Thought the hospital was the dropping the whole thing.” Jill muttered.

“They are. Irons sounded pretty exasperated. Don’t know who he was talking to. But he was pissed—I stayed clear.” A few more steps into the forest and a walked perimeter around their campsite. Nothing more than trees and scrub.

“Maybe just passing through.” Jill figured, mostly to reassure herself, but something felt off in her gut about it. You didn’t walk around in body armor looking for women during the night unless you were up to some form of no good.

“Never know out here.” Sully said. Their conversation turned to strange experiences the wardens had had out in the woods. Most of it was innocent enough. The time Chris busted someone for smoking meth because they asked to barrow a lighter from him, the other time Sully busted someone for smoking meth because they did it in front of the school during lunch time. Raccoon at its finest. “People do disappear in these woods. They’re so big we never find them, if they get too far off the trail.” Sully mentioned.

That was an unfortunate reality which Jill did know, “They didn’t seem lost.”

“Just saying. Weird sightings and things all the time.”

“What do you mean?” Chris asked Sully to clarify.

“We got reports about police out here that weren’t our units, or at least weren’t supposed to be a few years ago. People get out in the woods and decide to get creepy about it.”

A chill went up Jill’s spine, the adventurous sort of chill. She’d already been startled by the men when she was trying to asleep, and it was apparent she wasn’t the only of their group feeling the adrenaline, “Should we try to have a walk around? See what we find?”

The forest was normal, the buzzing insects and wind on branches, “Thought you’d never ask.” Chris was already on his feet.

“I think I’ll man the fire.” Sully yawned, grabbing one of the longer branches and tossing a fresh log on the embers. He laid back down beside the tiny flame he tended.

Jill had her stupid keyring flashlight and her pocketknife, thankfully Sully had an extra light as Chris’ flashlight batteries were dying. She took the light while Chris kept his rifle.

Their march around the campsite turned up nothing on a second pass, “You’re superstitious, Chris. What do _you _think is out here?”

He waved her off at first, but she sensed the grin on his face, “Nothin’.”

“Nothing? Didn’t Claire have stories?” Jill pressed him, shining the light into the trail of boot prints. They lost them quickly in the brush, neither of them highly trained in tracking.

“Claire’s convinced it’s some massive conspiracy with people disappearing in national parks all over the country and being sold into human trafficking.”

Jill cocked an eyebrow at that, “Creepy. Should we try it out?”

“Maybe in the morning?” Chris suggested.

“I like that plan. Can’t see any tracks.”

“Me neither.” Her adrenaline wore off eventually, her mouth was dry and a faint headache from too much cheap beer throbbed at the top of her skull. _Some people see pink elephants. _Jill thought sarcastically, _you see men creeping around your campsite. _At least there were tracks to prove she hadn’t dreamt the experience.

Eventually she hoisted herself into the backseat of the truck again, dozing off and waking up when the sunrise hit her eyelids.

\--

Barry Burton was a kind man. He was experienced as a warden; Jill gave him that. She’d bet money he had a military background too but squeezing any information out of Barry about his personal life went about as well as herding a pile of cats. That feature didn’t make him less pleasant to be around. Jill was comfortable in silence for the most part.

“How long have you lived here?” Jill asked him. She didn’t normally attend this cross fit class. It was Barry’s favorite due to the lack of people who showed up on Sunday mornings.

“A while.” He said, voice raspy while they waited for their instructor to come and join them.

A moment of silence between them, and as quiet as Jill considered herself, she wasn’t about to let Barry outdo her, “I was in the woods. Went camping with Chris and Sully. It was nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She continued, “I was wondering—who used to build those old cabins out there? The state owns it, don’t they? I didn’t think anything was allowed to be built that far into the preserve.”

That seemed to have Barry’s attention a little more, “The State has always owned… a portion of it.”

“Who owns the rest?”

He shook his head, “One of the big corporations used to do something or planned on doing something. Forget who owns it. They consider it a part of the park, though.”

“Umbrella Corporation?” Jill guessed. It was the first company that popped into her head. The only real “name brand” their town offered. Raccoon was short on big-box stores. Missing Target was one of her favorite pastimes. It seemed the local pharmacy and grocer sourced most of their makeup and first aid supplies as exclusively the expensive Umbrella Corporation ones (something she’d learned when she regrettably bought bandages at double the price she was used to in Albany). Though, Jill admitted, they were nice bandages. ‘Luxury Bandaids’, she’d told Chris and Hector. 

“Oh yeah!” He nodded, “Umbrella. You’re right—it’s Umbrella. They’re super into biodiversity and ecosystems. Love sending packs of interns to get samples. We usually end up escorting them when they poke around pretty remote up on the mountains. They donate a lot to the park.”

“Huh.” That sounded interesting enough. Hopefully she’d get voluntold for that one. Jill wouldn’t mind hiking out with a pack of science majors. If anything, she figured they’d teach her a few things, “So it’s probably their old stuff out there.”

_It’s creepy because it’s rotting. Umbrella probably had a first aid station for their researchers out there. _But something about the cabin and the men in the forest nagged her. She did her best to forget about it and focus on her workout.

\--

Thanks for reading : )


	7. Chapter 7

**I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I’m enjoying writing it : )**

**Chapter 7: **

Iron’s office was always strange. A gawdy place filled with taxidermy. Richard, one of the wardens, warned her that he was a ‘quick tempered bastard’. Multiple times. Jill was yet to have an issue with him, but it didn’t make him less _weird. _

A rotund, red-faced man who would sit at his oversized oak desk and do his weird barking laugh into the phone. It would echo down the old limestone hallways of the Raccoon Police Department like he was trying to prove some point about who could make everyone feel the most uncomfortable.

She opted to stand, a wide-eyed younger woman sat at one of the chairs, leaned forward with her chest puffed out and hands carefully folded on the surface of the desk, “Valentine, meet Rebecca. She’s a public health intern. She’ll be spending some time with us.”

_How old is she? _

“Jill is fine.” Rebecca gave her an enthusiastic handshake, “Good to meet you Rebecca. Public health?”

“Looking into Lyme disease in the white tail population. Give us a good read on the occurrence level of the disease in the park and the number of deer ticks.” Rebecca was a petite, lithe girl with wide green eyes and a mousy pixie cut.

Jill glanced around the office. Irons certainly had interesting tastes. Most people in Raccoon hunted or fished in some manner, but it seemed local animals didn’t meet his interests. There was a zebra head hung on the wall above his bookshelves. The shelves themselves, covered with locking glass doors, held a glass globe and an unpractically large set of encyclopedias about African game and plant species. There was also an elephant tusk, ornately carved and painted. It looked recently done. Jill figured it was a replica as half of their outreach programs were based on the preservation of endangered animals and habitats rather than the trade of them.

A moose was stuffed and set on a wooden stand, taking up most of the space in the office. Behind them another two heads—a gemsbok and a gazelle. A bobwhite quail set on another shelf.

“That’ll be interesting.” Jill stated toward Rebecca, “You’re a student?”

“Starting my masters’ in fall.” Rebecca gave her a white toothed smile.

“And she’s only turning nineteen!” Irons motioned to her, letting out one of his strange, bellowing laughs. Jill cringed inwardly; Rebecca’s outward cringe was small but enough for Jill to notice it. Irons’ didn’t though, she was sure. 

“That’s impressive.” Jill smiled.

Rebecca, seemingly more uncomfortable than flattered at the whole commentary on her age, muttered a thanks. Irons continued along, “Well, I was thinking, Jill. Chris had to flex some hours to make up time for when he’s visiting his sister this weekend, so he and Sully have been out on patrol checking fishing licenses. Think you could take her out to let her get some of the samples she needs?”

Jill tried not to narrow her eyes too much, “From…deer?”

“No, not the deer yet.” Rebecca clarified, “We don’t have a DVM or anybody to do that today. We’re going to dart some eventually and get ticks off of them, but right now I’d like to count deer and collect ticks—I’ll extrapolate from there and the trail cameras what the population is.”

“Figured Jill would be better suited to that than some of the boys.” Irons bellowed again, “Thought I ran a preschool here the last time Richard got a tick on him. Jill here had to get the tweezers. You could say she’ll be the most helpful if a _situation _arises.”

Jill let herself smile at that one (and, frankly tried not to preen). It was a stupid compliment, but made her happy for some reason as much as Irons made her uncomfortable. So she and Rebecca were off, in one of the Raccoon Fish and Game SUVs, in search of _ticks. _

With certainty, Jill realized again, that she was no longer a city cop. This was going to be a good day. Rebecca was quiet at first but got talking, bringing up Jill’s ring which she’d forgotten to leave in her locker, “Are you engaged?”

“Um. Yeah.” She looked at the shiny thing with the diamond chips and the stone and the white gold band. Her hands looked pale and dry, her cuticles were atrocious. She should really get some working hand lotion to put in the cruiser she and Chris mostly used. Not that Jill supposed it really mattered if they were going to be grabbing ticks of all things.

“To Chris, right?” Rebecca asked.

“Oh. Oh, no, no. Not Chris….” Jill side-eyed her as she turned the vehicle off the road, following Rebecca’s directions to the apparent first sample site, tires crunched on gravel, “He’s a warden. He’s my partner. Chris is, my fiancé lives in New York. He’s a stock broker.”

“Oh! My bad! That’s…some distance.” Rebecca said, “maybe it’s nice though. You get the big city and this both?”

“It’s nice.” Jill echoed, “I don’t get out there often but it’s fine here. He visits.”

“He must come a lot.” Rebecca said.

Something clenched a little in Jill’s belly at that. A nagging sort of self-doubt. Why didn’t he come? Wasn’t that the whole set up with her moving out here and living in the cabin his father had willed over to him? Jill pushed it down, “He does.” That was a lie. No point explaining though. It didn’t matter. He was her fiancé. They’d be married when they got around to it.

“That’s romantic.” Rebecca looked happy at that, “It’s romantic out here.”

“Uh yeah…I guess it is.” Jill supposed she hadn’t thought of it so much. _Sure. Cabin. Nice woodland park. Cabin with firepit in the back. _It was a little romantic. Though there was something that nagged her: “Do people think Chris is my fiancé?”

“I…probably misunderstood.” Rebecca looked sheepish.

“I’m not offended—believe me. I’m just genuinely curious since Chris’s been out on a boat since four this morning.” Jill stated.

“Well….I guess Richard and Enrico call you his ‘work wife’. They say that you wear the pants if that helps.”

Jill laughed, “Suppose I’m alright with that. You should have seen Richard with the tick. He was acting like he got mauled or something.”

“Can’t send a man to do a woman’s job.” Rebecca muttered, “This place is interesting. I’ve heard strange things happen out here from the other interns in Dr. Walker’s lab.”

“Yeah?” Jill wasn’t sure if she was getting sick of or addicted to the strange stories that Arklay Preserve carried with it, but she had a sneaking suspicion of the later because she was now hanging on the intern’s every word.

“Yeah. Ladies at the hospital were talking about stuff. In the lab, y’know? The research labs are at Raccoon General. That’s why it’s so big with such a small town but I’m sure you know that. Apparently Dr. Walker—she’s the one I report to—she collected a bunch of samples of something strange out here that all disappeared? See that spray paint circle on the tree? Turn left there. We’ll see the field area marked off with twine.” Rebecca pointed and fiddled with the case in her lap. Vinyl gloves and several plastic containers to contain the dangerous little insects. Jill was glad she’d given her pants and boots a second permethrin spray down before heading into work.

“What kind of samples? Ticks?” Jill asked incredulously.

“No.” Rebecca shook her head, “She apparently found this deer carcass. The bones of it. It had weird notches and tumors all over it—maybe some new cancer that’s not been seen in ungulates— but the bones disappeared out of the lab before she ran tests. Raccoon Village has a curse. It’s haunted. That’s what they say. But it was an interesting condition, very aggressive based on preliminary findings because the tumors were so large and numerous she wasn’t sure how the animal was walking around.”

“Spooky.” Jill stated. Okay, maybe deer cancer wasn’t what she was looking for specifically, “Where did it disappear from?”

“Just out of a storage cooler in the basement of the hospital. One day it was gone. Weird.” Rebecca stated.

And then Jill was all static and weirded out and her knees had a phantom ache from chasing a woman through the basement of the hospital. No need to tell Rebecca that story, though, “Yeah, a lot of people are convinced weird things happen out here.”

“You seen anything?” Rebecca asked. Jill thought about the men in the woods but figured it was probably better to keep that to herself anyway. Retelling that story sounded just like lost campers according to Hector, anyway.

“No. I haven’t. I’m more of a woman of science.” Jill stated.

“I like you, Officer Valentine.” Rebecca told her and they got out of the car.

A few hours and a few jars containing ticks later they were back at the police station. Jill finished most of her administrative reporting and then she headed home for the evening. Her next three shifts passed uneventfully, covering nights again now that they’d worked out the flexing schedules for the week.

By Thursday night she’d hit her allotted number of hours due to taking on extra time for Enrico and Barry needing to get to a dance recital for a studio in town where both of their daughters took lessons.

(“You know people think we’re married?” She told Chris.

“We are married.” He joked, “We go everywhere together.”

“I wear the pants, they say.”

“Do they? Honestly, I always imagined that if you were engaged to a stockbroker. You’re the dominant one.”

“Hey! Be nice!” Jill told him, and that had been the end of it).

Chris was out of town to visit his sister, Claire, as she was in art school. The two of them were close—their parents had died in a car accident when they were young.

Chris had supported Claire during his time in the military and she was young still, probably closer to Rebecca’s age than Jill’s own. She checked her phone as she walked home finding a missed call from her mother. Jill heaved a breath and hit the redial button as she stepped down the dirt road which took her back to her cabin, “Hey? Mom?”

_“Jillian!” _Her mother put on her high-pitched voice, _“I haven’t spoken with you in weeks now!” _

“Hey…hey mom. Sorry. I’ve been busy. Work.”

_“How’s the village?” _

“It’s nice, romantic.” That was a word stolen from Rebecca but Julie would swallow that one right up and she did.

_“Oh God! That’s great! I heard Hector got on a plane—” _

“What? When?”

_“Oh! Shit that might have been a surprise!” _

“As in…today?” Jill felt a little bit of excitement bubble up.

_“Maybe?” _

She chuckled at that, “Mom…this is why people don’t invite you to Christmas parties.”

Julie made a snorting noise into the receiver, _“You have to be excited though?” _

“Oh, yeah! Definitely! Haven’t seen him in a while!” Jill let herself smile.

_“Think you’ll nail down that save-the-date? Lot’s of wedding dresses in store, Jilly-Jillian.” _

Her mother owned a dress and jewelry boutique in Albany, “Mom. Let’s not give me a conniption, please.”

_“You are wearing a dress when you get married. It’s your day to be a princess.” _

“That’s…fine. Sure. I don’t—”

_“When’s the date? I didn’t get an invite.” _

“We made them…but we had to change it, remember?”

_“Jillian.” _Julie sounded disappointed, _“You’re going to make that boy keep waiting? You could be living in New York—” _

“I just moved to Raccoon, a few months ago. For a new job. That’s going well, really well—”

_“Where you’re out messing around with dangerous hooligans at night.” _

“I went to police academy…and this is a lot safer than being a New York City cop, i’d bet—”

_“Marry that boy and you don’t need to work. You take care of the kids, buy some nice purses…be a city girl.” _

“Yeah, we’ve talked about this.” Jill was starting to get annoyed by the conversation. Talking to Julie was talking in circles. She was her father’s daughter, not her mother’s. Julie just had…such a different personality than she it was amazing to Jill that she’d been the one to raise her.

_“Yes, yes we’ve talked about this I know we have and you’re getting older your eggs have a shelf life—” _

“Mom. I’m twenty-three…and…you only had one child! What are you talking about?”

_“I was twenty three when I had you and you nearly killed me!” _

Ah, yes, one of Julie’s favorite Jill stories. How she’d almost bled out having her and was warned not to have anymore kids. Jill had heard it a thousand times—the best rendition was after a Thanksgiving dinner where Hector’s mother, a doctor, had joined into the story telling and advised Jill that she have children soon if she wanted them as she’d be at lower risk of complications. Julie had clung to that piece of advice like a lifeline, “I don’t want kids at all.”

_“Hector does! I asked him the other day!” _

“Mom! Why are you talking to Hector? Him and I aren’t having kids. Not right now. Probably never. And him and I had a long talk about that after I took the ring—”

_“The ring you almost didn’t take! I know you, Jill! You don’t know what’s good for you! You sign those papers at least. That’s how you are. The important thing is signing those papers. I think a wedding day is important for women like us too! That way we get to keep those memories—” _

“Were you and dad married?”

_“No. We just had the celebration! But that’s the important thing, Jill.” _

Jill chuckled again, it was better than letting herself get angry, “You’re not even making sense right now.”

_“I just want you to be happy.” _Julie exhaled, “_Are you’re thick. I care about you, Jillian, but you’re thick about love! And I know that and I know you and I love you—” _

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” Jill was half listening now as she fiddled with making the key work in the sticky deadbolt.

_“Jill? Are you listening? This is important? I know you tune it out!” _

“I’m…thick about love?” Whatever that meant. Her teenage years living with her mother had been turbulent, their relationship was calmer now that Jill lived separately from her. Calmer wasn’t the same as seeing eye-to-eye. Jill flopped on the love seat behind the kitchen table and kicked her feet over the arm rest—something Julie would have lit into her for as she was still wearing her boots.

_“I mean...I know you. You’ll get scared. Cold feet. Mark my words, you will! Because you’re flighty! You got to just do it before you think to much.” _

“So dive headfirst. Shoehorn a wedding before Christmas?”

_“You won’t still engaged at Christmas, don’t be dramatic. Plenty of time to be married by then. Plenty of venues here. I emailed you some options, did you get them?” _

Jill glanced at her laptop which she hadn’t touched in days, “They were…beautiful.” She lied, “Yeah. Hey, mom. I’ll look into it. But you said Hector is coming?”

_“I’m sorry I shouldn’t say.” _

“Mom I stink like a dog because I’ve been at work and I was helping an intern collect a second batch of ticks—”

_“Gross! Jillian!” _

“So if he’s coming I should probably shower and change my bra and throw in the laundry.”

A pause, “_This is why you belong in New York. It’ll be an upgrade—”_

Jill was growing tired of underhanded compliments, “So he’s coming?”

_“I’d shower and do laundry, dear.” _ Julie sounded like she was getting tired of their conversation too.

“Great. Thanks for calling mom. Talk to you later.”

_“Get me that date or so help me, Jillian! I’ll tell Hector to set it on his own and we’ll drag you back here!” _

Jill hung up, shaking her head. Hector knew better than to go behind her back on a wedding date. He was in the same boat as her—they needed time to figure out being across the country from each other. He understood that better than her mother did, certainly. Which was why she was marrying Hector and she called her mother once a month. Butterflies bubbled in Jill’s stomach. She’d been hungry. Maybe Hector would arrive in time to take her to dinner.

She pulled out her phone to text him:

**I think my mom just spoilt the surprise?: ) **

A few minutes later she got a pinging reply:

**Julie darn it! Lol. See you soon. What do you want to do? **

Jill’s stomach growled again:

**Dinner? **

From Hector: **It’s a date. **

A smile on her face, Jill dumped her uniform into the washing machine in the tiny back breezeway. She picked up her phone once more to text Chris:

**Forgot to tell you. The intern, Rebecca, who’s at the hospital doing the health lab stuff. Apparently, some of their samples got stolen out of the basement there last summer. This is an ongoing thing. : o Hope it’s going well with your sister! **

His reply pinged:

**It’s great! Thanks! Hah! I guess it’s a conspiracy after all! **

Jill smiled, glad to have someone she was so close to who she worked with every day, and stepped into the shower.

\--

**Thanks for reading ** **😊 Love it? Hate it? Let me know. Drop me a comment. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Sexual content in this chapter! NSFW! **

**Feel free to join me and shoot me a message on Tumblr! Jkit45. I’m all about chatting about fictional romance! **

**Chapter 8: **

Hector was a handsome—tall and lanky with piercing blue eyes. He wore his pressed pants and sport coat, despite being on a plane, he still smelled of his nice cologne and his clothing had managed to avoid being rumpled. Jill did her best to pull a brush through her bobbed hair while the two of them laughed and caught up.

He grabbed her butt playfully while he slid behind her in the tiny bathroom, getting at the sink to brush his teeth, “How was the flight?” She asked him.

“Boring. Lonely. You weren’t there.” He smiled his white-toothed smile and Jill grinned back at him.

“I’m glad you made it and I’m glad my mom spoiled the surprise— believe me you did not want to see what I looked like an hour ago.” Jill laughed.

“A good romp in the woods?” Hector shot back at her.

“Always.” Jill stated, laughing with him, “Mom was getting mad about our wedding date again.”

Hector glanced down, “About that—uh. I was thinking we should just do it. Let’s go big. We’ve been engaged for a year, it’s time.”

Jill blinked, a bundle of nerves rising in her gut. She _loved _Hector. But they’d only been engaged for a year. It all felt like it was happening too fast, and she’d just taken a new job that she was really _liking. _“I…I want to marry you. But I don’t know how I feel about this being a big affaire.” Jill stated, “Just started a new job. I’m not sure if I have wedding planning in me.”

“My mom and sisters are all over it, as is your mom. You really wouldn’t have to do much of the work.” He suggested, finishing brushing his teeth and giving her a kiss on the temple, “Just show up. We can send the invitations tomorrow morning.”

“W-we don’t have a date. We don’t have a venue.” She protested, finishing the side part in her hair.

“We’ll find one. Believe me: with my mom and sisters on it, plus Julie, it’ll be a piece of cake for us—”

“Hector.” Jill cut him off, doing her best to focus on her makeup as this was a conversation that was giving her stress. She was out of practice on eyeliner, as she hadn’t worn it in weeks, and leaned close to the mirror, “It’s a super, super nice offer. And I think they would throw an amazing party. But I want this to be ours, you know what I mean? Besides, if my mom picks out anything it’s going to be Disney princess themed and I’ll have to puke in the dumpster out back.”

Hector let a snorting laugh out at her protest, “Point taken. My mom and sisters do have good tastes, though.”

_Do they? _She kept that to herself though. He was the youngest in the family, and his mother and sisters were _very _excited about their baby boy being married off. Jill had a feeling their idea of a nice wedding would be more aligned with Julie’s than her own. “They do.” She stated, as not to hurt his feelings, “But I want this to be _ours. _And my mom is going to be involved and believe me when Julie is involved we have to babysit her unless you want us to wake up the morning after with thousands of dollars charged to our credit cards for some shit like ice sculptures.”

“Ice sculptures?” He laughed again.

“My mom is into ice sculptures, believe me. It would get wild.”

“Come on, you’re law enforcement. Nothing can be too wild for you.”

Jill laughed at that again, “If I have to wear a hoop skirt I will die, Hector.”

“Hey, you can wear whatever you want. We could build a life in New York.”

“Or in Raccoon.”

“Or in Raccoon. You’ve done an amazing job keeping this place up.”

“Aw. Thanks.” Jill was glad he didn’t mind her housekeeping skills, “But I’d probably stay here. Stay with the wardens.”

“You could. If you wanted.”

“What else would I do? I mean, NYPD would be different after this. I’d try it though.” Jill told him. It would probably be time to move back to a big city eventually.

“If you wanted. You wouldn’t have to, I mean. My job is really good. So you could do whatever you wanted. Stay home, start a business like you mom.” He was older than she, more stable in his career but still successful for how young he was—he’d just turned thirty a few months back. Jill was busy paying off the loan from the upside-down car with the burnt-out transmission. At least she didn’t necessarily need a car here thus far.

That was sweet of him, Jill was grinning, “I love that. But you know me. I can’t sit still. I really like the wardens. I have friends out here. I’d stay. At least for now.”

“Really? You want to keep doing something this dangerous? You don’t loose sleep?”

“Out here?” Jill looked at him sideways, “Sure, occasionally but really not often. I literally was collecting ticks today, Hector. It’s nothing like what you’re thinking.”

He smoothed over his shirt while she finished her eyeshadow and applied mascara, careful to not drip it onto her cheek, “I don’t want you getting some disease.”

“There are ticks in New York.”

“Not on Wall Street.”

“Depends on your definition of a tick.”

He snorted, “That was cold, Valentine.”

Her stomach growled, “You going to take me out to dinner or am I doing to have to take myself, Smith?”

“I’ll drive. It’s a nice rental.” He winked. The car was some new Audi which garnered looks from several people down main street. Hector pulled into the parking lot and she stepped out behind him. Hector was always better dressed than she was. Wearing old slacks and black boots with her sweater, he was in his perfectly pressed suit. Fresh off Wall Street. She needed to invest in better clothes if he kept bringing her out like this.

They ate and went home, catching up about work and his family. Jill told him about Wesker and Chris and their camping adventures, “I don’t like that.” Hector said.

“Don’t like what?”

“You out there camping when there’s other strangers walking around the campsite.”

“It’s probably like you said—lost campers.”

“Still.” He shook his head.

They hardly made it into the cabin door before his mouth was on hers. His hands on her waist and hers on his belt. He pulled her onto the same worn loveseat behind the table that Julie would have freaked out if she touched her boots to. Jill laughed against his lips, shoving his jacket down his arms. He pushed her shirt over her head, “You ready?” He asked her, pressing his fingers between her legs over the thin material of her panties.

She took a moment to try her best to wiggle out of her partially undone pants while underneath him.

“Uh…give me a minute.” While nice, she hadn’t exactly been prepared for this impromptu session, “Getting there.” She kissed him again, grinding her hips up into his groin where it was apparent that he was far more ready than she was.

_Think sexy thoughts. _It always took her a minute longer than him to get into the right mood where he’d be able to penetrate her comfortably. He reached his fingers down to play with her, pressing through her folds for a moment before landing on her clit. Jill exhaled and arched her back up into his hand. She hummed, pressing her lips to his again. He yanked her panties down with one hand, the sound of the lace seams ripping as they caught on her knees. _He’ll send you more. Put that stock money to good use. _She’d ask him for that—he would happily oblige.

It took a few moments of him working her for Jill to get close, she groaned, “You there?” He asked.

“Almost.” She answered, eyes closed.

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, yes.”

They spent a moment, laughing and fiddling with the condom package in the dark.

He pressed himself inside her, gripping the back of her legs. Jill tossed her head into the arm of the couch and groaned. Hector rocked his hips against hers, her nails dug into his shoulders. She bucked her hips to meet his, sighing contentedly.

Eventually he groaned and collapsed on top of her. Jill pushed her hand between them to rub herself over the edge. Her body lurched beneath his as her own orgasm warmed through her legs and they lay there, her fingers traced over his back.

“Good to be home?” She asked.

“If you were in New York we’d do that every day.”

“If you were here we’d probably do the same.” Jill said. They spent a moment, breathing in the dark room. The back breezeway had shear curtains, but that was the forest and there were no lights on. Nonetheless, Jill was getting an uneasy feeling about the fact they’d just had sex in front of her back glass door. The woods always felt strange after the camping trip—no telling who would emerge out and wander around. “My neck is cramping. Let’s go to bed.”

He pushed himself off of her and offered a hand to help her stand. Bare feet padded on the floor, the two of them climbed into bed and she settled on her side. He draped an arm over her for a few minutes before he turned away to get comfortable on his own pillow and they pressed their backs together. Jill savored his warmth, pressing against him and feeling herself lull into sleep and glad to be starting her weekend with his companionship.

_“Jill?” _Hector nudged her, “Jillian? Wake up!” He was whispering tersely.

That had her attention. She stiffened, pushing herself up, “What?” She looked at him. Their room was dark, but she felt the urgency in his voice and body language. How stiff he was, the way he stared at the window which was partially open for the box fan, “Someone’s outside.”

“What?”

“Someone’s outside.” He said again, “Someone’s in a sweatshirt with the hood up. She was looking in here.”

Jill’s blood went cold. _Fucking hell._ The sheet fell from her bare chest but she stood anyway, stepping into the hallway and pulling her gun from it’s locked case. She marched to the back door. Hector followed behind her, awkwardly yanking on his boxers, “Jill! You’re naked!”

“Weird…I thought it was just cold in here.” She sarcastically drawled, stepping into the mudroom breezeway. She opened the drier and pulled out a pair of pajama pants. She stepped into the legs without letting her eyes waiver from the tree line behind the cabin. Figuring she didn’t need to be caught running down the street topless, she chucked on a t-shirt too and crammed her feet into the flats she kept by the door.

“Jill!” Hector hissed.

The safety was on the gun, but whoever it was didn’t need to know that. Jill wasn’t sure who jumped more: her or the woman. She’d walked straight into her. _Fucker._ Tall, with the curly hair pulled back and her hood up, “Who are you?” Jill demanded, raising her gun, “Get on the ground. Why are you following—HEY!” The stranger turned and walked toward the front of the house, breaking into a jog down the street.

Jill tore after her, but the woman kept a solid distance between them. Just enough that Jill could shout after her but not touch her, “Who are you!? Why are you following me!?”

The woman stopped, suddenly, nearly giving Jill a second heart attack. Safety still on, pistol raised. She spun on her heels to face Jill, squaring her shoulders and puffing out her chest, “Go home, Jill. I don’t want any trouble.”

If Jill thought she was nervous before, she was terrified now. Her rational side screamed at her not to show her fear while some human side of her repeated: _What the fuck? What the fuck? What is going on? _ Her voice waivered: “How do you know my name?” Jill stepped forward, keeping the pistol up. The woman stepped back, glaring down at her.

“Go home. Go away. Leave town. Just because they brought you here doesn’t mean it’s good. No trouble. I don’t want any trouble.” She did the same strange maneuver where she cocked her head sideways as she had done at the donut shop when she and Chris ran into her accidently. A deep, dramatic inhale: “Leave me alone.”

“You alone? _Leave town_?” Jill hissed, “You’re outside my house! It’s the middle of the damn night! Who are you?”

“Go home, Valentine.” She breathed again, breath puffed in the cool night air. Then she turned and leapt across the ditch on the side of the road toward the forest. Jill leapt after her but slipped and nearly fell on the grass in her flats as she hardly landed the jump herself and staggered several steps forward. The woman was gone into the woods. She was fast.

“Stop!” But she had vanished again. And Jill realized she was standing ten cabins down from her own, in their yard, in the middle of the night, and holding a gun. Gooseflesh prickled across her arms and she took a glance around. No one except Hector who was jogging down the street and holding his phone. She tucked her weapon into her waistband, pulling her t-shirt over it.

“Should I call the police?” He asked her, wide eyed.

“Don’t bother. She’s gone.”

“She know you?” Hector looked concerned.

“Apparently. Let’s go home. Lock the doors. I’ll text Richard. He’s on patrol. No need to call the emergency line.” Jill couldn’t tear her eyes from the tree line if she tried.

“Three in the damn morning. Dad used to say this place was weird.” Hector muttered.

“The bewitching hour.” Jill muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

**Thanks for reading ** **😊 **


	9. Chapter 9

**There is an awful lot of this fic spanning all of the way until Resident Evil 5ish era so I hope y’all are cozy : ) This is something I’ve grappled with making an original novel for a long time but it just feels so much like Resident Evil to me, I kind of want to keep posting it here! **

**Suggested Listening: _Bar at the end of the World by: _Kenny Chesney**

**Cheers! **

**Chapter 9: **

Jill stood at her counter, stirring the rest of the milk she had into three cups of coffee. Richard was at the counter with his tablet, “Just around your house?” He clarified, taking the cup of coffee and thanking her.

“She was standing and looking in the bedroom window.” Hector motioned with his arms. He was shaken up, Jill could hear it in his voice.

“Peeping Tom.” Richard muttered.

“No. I don’t think so.” Jill cut in, “This isn’t some teenager. She’s got to be late twenties, maybe thirty.”

“All people can be perverted weirdos.” Hector spoke up, “What does that mean?”

“It’s not some man with his dick out! Or teenager! We were sleeping it’s not like there was anything happening.” Jill stated, and Hector flushed. Richard chuckled, “Oh shut up! If she wanted entertainment, we weren’t providing. And she’s the same lady who broke into the hospital a few weeks ago—”

“I thought you didn’t see her face at the hospital” Richard said. Jill hated that he had a point. She and Chris had both listed the suspect without much description after that strange night.

“I didn’t. That’s the problem. But I’m sure it’s her. Just didn’t actually see her face at the hospital, but I’ve seen her around town. She’s always wearing a sweatshirt with a hood and has her hands in the pockets. She has a weird tick where she leans her head sideways. She’s fidgety.”

Richard was taking down notes on the tablet, struggling to type on the touch screen, “And you said…she knows your name somehow?”

“Her and I have never had an exchange. Chris and I ran into her outside of work once but she didn’t get my name in that exchange.”

“Maybe you were wearing your nametag.” Richard tried.

“No. Not my badge. We just left cross-fit that night it was the same day we went camping with Sully.”

“Do you know her from where you lived before?” Richard asked. Standard questioning.

“No.” Jill said and Hector echoed her.

“Any known enemies or people that would want to harm you?”

“God, no.” Jill let out an exasperated laugh, “Not that I can think of.” That was honest. Nothing crazy had ever happened in Albany, “Well…actually…” She trailed off, Richard looked at her, “I…Uh my father’s in prison, you might not know that. He was…uh…went down for armed robbery and he robbed a lot of people.”

“Maybe one of his enemies?” Richard tried. 

“Got arrested as a kid for driving a getaway car. Didn’t know what we were doing. Dear ol’ dad.” Jill looked into her coffee, “Slapped me on the wrist, offered me a police outreach program which is half the reason I’m out here. They wanted to train up ‘troubled kids’ to be officers so we had a better understanding and all that—I think Irons caught wind of it.”

Richard whistled, “I did not know that.”

Hector looked uncomfortable. That was one thing Hector didn’t like: the fact that she’d been arrested before.

“But that was Albany. And that was years ago. And I wasn’t affiliated with his people or I’d probably not be here.” She would be in a cell. She got lucky, “No. Forget that.” Richard had taken notes down. That was _awkward. _Jill hadn’t really thought of it as anything to hide as it was her classic job interview line: ‘Yes, I was an idiot kid with a criminal father and I was given a break by the legal system. There are a lot of bad cops that abuse their power and the system _is _broken but I actually want to help people’. It was true. No need to get weird about it, “There’s no way that she’s from any of that. I think there’s something weird going on with the hospital we don’t know about.”

Richard and Hector looked at her strangely. Where was Chris when she needed him? He’d be all over this.

“We have our first actual break in call since I’ve been here and it’s super weird. Hospital basement. The interns apparently talk about their samples whenever they find anything interesting getting stolen. And now the same woman is outside my house looking in my windows. I feel like…I don’t know what I feel.” Jill honestly didn’t know where she was going with that, “But it’s _strange.” _

Richard finished taking notes. The typical spiel that with no evidence or no actual damage other than trespassing that there was little they could do, but he assured her he would send whoever was on patrol for the rest of the night around the neighborhood to keep an eye on everything.

Jill thanked him and he started to gather his supplies.

She snatched her phone off the kitchen table where it had been left since she’d deposited it there when she and Hector staggered inside after dinner.

A missed text message, from Rebecca, strangely.

**Hey Jill this is Rebecca. Sorry if this is weird but I know you said you said to reach out if we needed anything and today at the lab some wardens came in and insisted that we incinerate any mice or mammal samples we have. We had nothing so they had us incinerate ticks that might have mammalian blood in them due to rabies concerns with companion animals (which actually isn’t a tickborne ailment! Dr. Walker and I would be happy to meet and calibrate on rabies prevention for companion animals!) Could you shoot us an email about where we can and can’t get samples so we don’t run into future issues with the wardens? Hoping to avoid future issues and sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks. –Rebecca **

“Oh…uh hey Richard. Why didn’t the wardens like the ticks that Rebecca and I collected? They had to be destroyed?” Jill asked him.

He looked at her strangely: “What ticks?”

“Who was working today? It was Sully and I in the morning.” Jill told him.

“Uh…you and Sully and now me and Forest.”

“Did you go to the hospital?” Jill pressed.

“No?”

“Weird. Rebecca was pretty convinced wardens made her throw out her samples today…” Jill trailed off.

Richard shrugged, “Probably university affiliates. They have all kinds of regulations for those projects they do out there.” Jill was sweating. She resisted the urge to ask Hector to drive her to the hospital.

_It’s nothing. It’s something stupid. _But now this weird lady had been outside of her house, and Rebecca was experiencing issues. This wasn’t _normal _anymore.

**Sorry, Rebecca. I’ve been asleep. I will follow up with this. **

Whatever that meant Jill wasn’t sure but it sounded professional enough.

Hector wanted to sit at the counter and Jill joined him, “I don’t like you out here alone.”

“Wesker is across the street. All of the wardens are here for me.” She said. It was unnerving, but his tone was aggressive. 

“No. I think you need to move back. This is getting weird to me. I’m not comfortable with it.”

“I’m not going to just leave my job.” Jill said, “And there are people all over this neighborhood. All the doors have deadbolts. They watch out for me. Wesker is a big guy right across the street.”

“What if she comes back?” Hector asked.

Jill lifted her hand, making a tiny motion between her thumb and forefinger, “She’s this big—a stick. She’s tall but what’s she going to do? She runs whenever she sees us. It’s the typical M.O. I just think there’s something weird about this town. I’m starting to think someone is keeping an eye on all of us, not just me.”

“You’re police officers. It could be any number of criminals!” Hector protested.

“It’s Raccoon Village.” Jill said, “Nothing that scary happens here.”

“I know…I know moving back seems like a lot. But your mom and I can work it out for you! You could take some time off!”

Jill was too tried to have Julie being dragged into this, “Hector. My mom is not figuring out anything right now. It’s five in the morning. Let’s go back to bed.”

And so they did. Jill slept uneasily—again dreaming of walking through the hospital basement. She dreamt of the tall woman who was there picking through the files.

Hector had to get back on a flight the next day, but thankfully had let talk about her getting Julie involved in helping her move back to Albany had dropped. He eventually took her word that she was alright, getting in his rental car to get himself back to Fredericksburg’s tiny airport.

There was a bar where she, Chris and Wesker would spend their time when they were bored. It was called Riverview Tavern, and overlooked the fast-moving Arklay creek which ran through the preserve. Chris was home by the afternoon Saturday, and the two of them had been at his apartment complex, watching a crappy horror movie in the common area before they headed out for drinks.

“You did _not _file a report with Richard.” Chris looked offended, “And you didn’t even text me? It could have been me, I could have swooped in, showed off for Wesker. Nope. Gave the opportunity to Richard.” Wesker hadn’t shown up yet, so she sat at their typical spot with the high top in the dark corner of the pub. Skis were mounted on the wall, various yellowed maps of the preserve and antlers screwed into the wood panel walls.

Though smoking indoors had been outlawed for a long time, Jill swore she still caught whiff of stale cigarettes. The sort of bar where your feet stuck to the floor but you ate the best goddamn food in Raccoon so no one actually cared. Buffalo wings and pizza logs and mozzarella sticks—all manner of fried snacks she probably shouldn’t eat but Chris talked her into ordering with him. _If you only eat half. Save money. Still get a taste. _

“How was Claire?”

“She was great, thanks. College though. She had big plans for tonight, you know how it goes. And…apparently Saturday tickets are cheap coming to Fredericksburg.”

“At least you got to see her.” Jill said, “She liking art school?”

“Loving it.” Chris pulled out his phone and showed her intricate tattoo designs Claire had drawn on paper. A skull with a snake coming out the eye. Another, very different one, of perfectly shaded flowers wrapping around a lizard. Each scale an ombre of orange to green.

“She’s real good.” Jill pushed her hair behind her ear.

He accidently scrolled too far and quickly covered it with his hand, “Oh, not that one!” But Jill had seen enough of it—it was pencil, of Chris. A candid of him when she assumed he was in the Air Force . He was wearing a tank top and had his muscular arm rested on a fence, other arm holding his rifle. _He should…consider modeling. _Jill stopped her mind from going any further down that tract because it _for some reason really wanted to. _

“That’s a great one! Is that based on an actual picture?” Eyes flicked across his chest and biceps. She forced them back onto her glass.

“Uh…yeah.” He stated, “What do you think I put on Bumble?”

Jill snorted, “Well, probably a good choice. Men in uniform and all.”

“What is with you and ‘men in uniform’ when you’re dating a stock broker. Wesker’s more your type if anything—”

Jill made a retching noise, “Oh my god, no. Don’t do that to me.”

“If well-dressed is what you’re after....”

“It’s…not?” She stated, pausing to think about it, “I’m saying that a lot of women are into men in uniform. Just because there’s been a few fails with your dating life…” She trailed off, “Doesn’t mean it’s bad. Besides, Wesker gardens in a sport coat and slacks. It’s kinda weird.”

“He’s a well groomed man.” Chris stated.

“You sound impressed.”

“Oh, I am.” He said to her, “That’s dedication. In fact: I bet you a dollar that he will be wearing a sportcoat and the Ray-bands in here.”

“No. Because I’ll lose.” She was laughing, “He will be wearing those. The Ray-Bans are new. I saw when he unboxed them because we were having coffee. They’re new and they’re expensive. Guy’s gotta flex somehow.”

“I bet he has a Rolex.” Chris stated.

“Didn’t know you were into watches.” Jill said and as she continued Chris was yanking up his sleeve to show her the sport stopwatch he was wearing, “That’s not a flex watch, Chris. That’s a practical watch.”

“Exactly. I’m a practical guy. Wesker is a… ‘flex guy’. Like Hector.”

“And together you fish.” Jill finished.

“I’m trying to rub off on him a little.”

Jill rolled her eyes: “I don’t think it’s working. He fucking gardens in a suit jacket. I bet he does have a Rolex.”

“If he does he’s in on the whole hospital conspiracy you’re spinning up.” Chris told her matter-of-factly.

“He’s a trauma doctor—who lives very modestly—he does not need any conspiracies around him to afford nice clothing.” Jill asserted, “I’m telling you, Chris. That’s _weird. _Why is shit getting stolen from the hospital all the damn time?”

“We don’t know anything about that at the station.” Chris protested weakly.

“Yeah, because they’re not reporting it. Do you really think a bunch of public health interns are going to report someone who tells them to burn a bunch of ticks? Probably not, they’re just trying to keep their internship the poor kids.” Jill took a drink of her water.

“I heard Hector was losing his shit about the lady outside your house.”

“I was pretty mad.” Jill shrugged, “It was creepy.”

“Yeah….so?” Chris cocked an eyebrow at her, “Doesn’t mean you go work at Dressbarn with your mom.”

Jill laughed, “It’s _Jewel of the Nile, _first of all. That’s her store. But see? Thank you! That’s what I need Hector to see. The lady’s some….weirdo. Corporate espionage. That’s what I think.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris cocked an eyebrow.

“It’s Umbrella. They always make the best medications—I read an article that they always come up with the best medications, especially for spine injuries and genetic conditions. Some people accused them of illegal human trials but nothing came of it. They’re just really good at research. So that lady is probably from some other company—why wouldn’t other companies try to sabotage them?”

“Why she looking in your windows and not Rebecca’s?” Chris asked, “It’s a good theory but it doesn’t explain.”

“That’s what I’m working on. Why does she know my name?”

“Corporate espionage. It’s a small town. Whoever’s paying her wants her to know who law enforcement is.” Chris suggested, “I agree with you that it’s probably not dangerous but also that it’s weird.”

“Hector’s been texting me about job openings in Albany all day.” Jill sighed, looking into her water cup.

She felt Chris’ eyes on her, “You…thinking about it?”

“No. I’d rather not. But he’s enlisted both my mom and Molly, his mom. They’re all upset.”

“Don’t they know you’re a cop?” Chris asked. Jill twisted the ring on her finger.

“Oh…they know, all right. Liking it as another thing.”

A few moments of silence, “Can I…eh…ask you something?” Chris managed.

“What?” Jill’s voice was a little harder than she intended him, “Why him?”

Chris was sheepish, “Eh…Yeah? Why?”

“I…I don’t know. When it works out it works out, y’know? You meet that person and they ask and it’s just right?” Jill stated. Chris looked at her strangely, “What?”

“Nothing.” He said, “Just seems like why propose to a woman who graduated from the Police Academy if you don’t want to be with a cop? I’m not trying to be…rude or anything.” Chris made an ’and so forth’ motion with his hand while talking as if he was struggling to find the right word. 

“Because he wants to be with me.” Jill tried her best not to let herself sound defensive, and if it was anyone other than Chris this conversation really would have been rubbing her the wrong way, “And he really cares about me, that’s why he’s being a pain.”

“Right, right. Not trying to press. I’m sure it will work out.” Chris stated quickly, “But I don’t know why she knows your name, Jill.”

“Corporate spy. Paid a lot of money to know everything Umbrella does with their research is Raccoon Village.” Jill let out her breath, “Weird shit is her middle name.”

“Wesker will hate this conversation.”

“Oh, I know he will.” Jill laughed, “I’m surprised how diplomatic he’s been about not commenting on the police and fiancé all at my house two nights ago.”

Chris put on a deep, monotone voice. A badly performed British accent, “Ms. Valentine why are you getting more attention from more women than I am?” Jill cackled.

“It’s like he’s here!” She did her own impersonation in good fun: “Jillian, why are there members of local law enforcement approaching your abode between the hours of six PM and six AM? The neighborhood watch does not staff volunteers for overnights.”

“Why does he call you ‘Jillian’?”

“I don’t know, but I hate that name so let’s not.” Jill shook her head.

She and Chris were already a plate deep in potato skins and wings when Wesker finally came strutting into the restaurant. Sure enough: sport coat and sunglasses, he pulled up his sleeve to look at an expensive appearing silver watch, “Ah. Very sorry I’m late.” 

He smiled his Mona-Lisa smile and headed over to them, gracefully pulling out a seat, “What happened at your house the other night, Ms. Valentine?”

“Don’t get her started! It’s a story!” Chris stated, starting to laugh.

_He does know Wesker well! _“What’s so funny?” Wesker glanced between the two of them. Jill wasn’t sure he was capable of humor and also was definitely not going to tell him about how good of an impression Chris could preform in his image.

“Oh, it’s not that bad! Some lady was looking in my windows.”

Wesker reached for the water they’d ordered him while giving her a puzzled look, “Didn’t know you attracted that sort of attention.” 

_And apparently he does make jokes! _

Chris laughed harder, “What attention?” Jill tried not to let her volume increase, but she’d already had her second beer with Chris and it was enough to loosen her tongue from its typical awkwardness, “Of women? Believe me, Dr. Wesker I get plenty of attention when I ask for it. I don’t see a line knocking down your door.”

His mouth turned to a grin. A strange, hungry look across his face that Jill would find unnerving if she didn’t know how harmless he was, “If only you knew. But that was…not the insinuation I was going for.” He stated, glancing between the two of them, “What is this business with women watching you?”

Jill caught him up on the story, as per usual Wesker was unflappable.

“Does stuff disappear from the hospital?” Jill followed up, “It’s a theme I’m noticing.”

“No.” He said, drinking the cup of coffee. Wesker was the man in the bar who drank coffee. Jill glanced at his watch—a distinct crown on the blue face. _Rolex. _For some reason the thought made her giddy again.

“Nothing?” Chris sounded disappointed.

“Nothing. Better to let silly rumors go.” Wesker didn’t eat. He stood, left his cup, and tossed a twenty on the table, “I have to go. Ought to check no women have trampled my pea plants while trying to peer into my kitchen. Have a good night. And stop reading on the internet.”

Chris and Jill paid their tab and headed out a few minutes later, stepping out onto Main Street. He’d had some drinks too and was still laughing about stupid joke about Jill finding women, “He’s got a Rolex!”

“It’s a Rolex?” She and Chris were sniggering like idiots again.

“Shit yeah it is!” Jill stated, “That’s expensive!”

Chris almost shouted: “He’s a flex guy!” They weren’t too loud, but the noisiest pair on the sidewalk. A woman on her phone side-stepped them with an annoyed look.

_Well, it’s Saturday night. _They calmed themselves back to normalcy, Jill blotted the tear from laughing at the corner of her eye.

Chris cleared his throat: “You can sleep on my couch—it folds to a bed. If you want. Grab some of those martinis at the Italian place I was telling you about?” She was a ways from home without car and without either of them in driving condition. 

Jill loved a good martini. “Don’t tempt me, Chris. I don’t have work in the morning.”

“Let’s do it.”

She shot a text to Hector: **Hey. Sleeping over on Chris’ couch so I’ll be nice and safe in town. Got drinks with work friends. Hope you’re having a good day. **

“Before the martinis, though.” Chris’ eyes were firmly on the LED sign for RACCOON GENERAL HOSPITAL, “Want to do something stupid?”

“Yeah…yeah I do.”

“Think we can go to jail?” Chris asked her, but they were already walking toward the hospital.

“Well…Irons would be pissed. But it wouldn’t be my first time.” Jill stated. And Chris looked at her oddly.

\--

  1. ** Wesker is a man who would buy a 15,000-dollar watch without blinking. **

**This is all I have to say. Hope y’all enjoyed! I love writing banter and dialogue, so I hope these chapters aren’t too slow! Some more real action soon! : ) **


	10. Chapter 10

***Alcohol Use**

**In which tipsy 20-somethings make questionable life choices. As me, a tipsy-20-something sits back and slugs some Moscow mules while writing. And cops get called on my neighbors. It’s a great day. **

**I hope you all enjoy. Happy New Year! **

**Chapter 10**

“Act natural!” Chris told her and she laughed again, probably because she was buzzed, but the hospital looming in front of her was a sobering thought. _It’s a great night to find some conspiracy theories! _

“Are we really doing this? Are we drunk?”

“We’re not _that _drunk.” Chris stated.

“I’m down either way.” Jill said. There was the parking lot, filled with cars. An Audi, a G-Wagon which looked freshly waxed, “Jeez, are they having a conference? Don’t see these around.” She muttered. She and Chris took a moment walking the parking lot and shopping. Normally she wasn’t a car person, and wasn’t sure if Chris was either, “That one.” Jill decided, “Practical.” It was a Mustang with a soft top. There was also a corvette and several BMWs, all lined up along the side of the building with staff tags.

“Must be people from out of town.” Chris stated.

“Umbrella.” Jill replied, “Must be employees.”

“Think Umbrella’s up to something?” Chris asked her.

“Everyone thinks all pharmaceutical companies are up to unethical things. They probably are. Let’s just see if we can wander into the basement.” The warm night air was clearing the alcohol from her brain. But hey, what good story ever started with staying home and sleeping it off? _Maybe you are drunk. _

Her phone buzzed. From Hector:

**I don’t know what Chris is going to do to help you but be safe! **

That rubbed her the wrong way. She chose to ignore it rather than send back something snarky. What did he mean he didn’t know what Chris was going to be able to do? That didn’t make any sense. She’d be staying in town in a populated apartment building. Jill mentioned it to Chris: “Hector doesn’t think me staying over will keep me any safer. Maybe you should have showed up to take my report after all.”

“Hector really is concerned about this lady.”

“To be fair.” Jill lowed her voice to a whisper as they made it through the electronic door, “We are walking into the hospital right now. We are a little obsessed.”

“You are, Ms. Conspiracy novel reader.”

“This was your idea.” Jill whispered frantically, the receptionist was head down, working on paperwork, “Uh…Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Uh…”

Chris cut in, “We wanted to check on something for the students. In the basement labs.”

“Do you have a student ID?” She asked, looking at her screen.

“Uh. No. We uh…are game wardens. Here about Rebecca Chambers the intern.” It was Jill’s turn to cut in.

“It’s pretty crucial. We want to make sure ticks are collected in the correct—” Before Chris could finish the thought the woman at the desk waved them through. She snapped her gum between her teeth. Jill glanced over her shoulder, watching her play solitaire on the computer.

The night was weeks ago, but walking down the long hall to the basement door, Jill remembered the dash outside. What she didn’t remember was the Umbrella corporation logo stamped every six feet on the floor, _OUR BUSINESS IS LIFE ITSELF! _Proudly proclaimed in bold, black painted letters along the cinderblock walls.

Her body prickled with gooseflesh and she felt like everything was moving slowly. Back down the stairs. _Instinct. _Jill just kept walking. Chris stuttered out some awkward greeting to the pharmacist. Didn’t that sound awkward to him? Nah, Chris was immune to awkwardness.

Jill felt magnetized. She never considered herself to have a photographic memory, but it felt like she’d been here a thousand times. _No more dreams after this. This is it. _

She ignored Chris, who apparently was friends with the pharmacist now— “Best fishing spot is down if you follow Arklay creek. You need an ATV, but if you can get down there the stripers are always biting!”

The pharmacist was telling him about a different location, one that Jill actually knew was located in her neighborhood.

_Focus. _

Jill stepped into her filing cabinet room. It was a dusty, alcohol smelling place. The same table where the woman had stacked the files up after breaking in. Jill came, standing at the table. Maybe the drinks were making her brave, body warm. She stood where the woman stood, unwise with her back to the door.

Chris always had her back, though. Jill still heard his voice down the hall. _She was looking at papers. Files. Manila folders. What was she looking at? _Was she making that up? It was all such a blur in her memory. She tapped fingernails on the table as if it would help her think.

An old filing cabinet to her left. Jill sidestepped. It was rusty. She tugged open the top drawer. Empty. Then the middle. A pile of manila folders. They were old, dusty. She pulled them out and set them on the table. Uneven legs rattled. 

A moment of holding her breath. Chris and the pharmacist were laughing.

The first one was empty. Tossed aside. _Keep talking, keep talking. _Then another folder.

A list of names.

_Who are these people? _Jill skimmed them but didn’t recognize anything. For a moment she considered pulling her phone out—but that was a direct violation of medical privacy laws. Jill looked over her shoulder. _Fuck it. _She yanked out her cell phone and snapped a picture. Then another of the back of the page.

Back into her pocket. Into the next files. 

Jill swallowed. _Weird. _

Another file, they were all thick, daunting. Names of people. Then there was a last one.

_Jane Doe _

_ Unidentified female. Late twenties. Severe car accident. Her boyfriend refused to wait for an ambulance. Possible spinal fracture, crushed rib cage, broken arm, crushed pelvis. Boyfriend and brother removed her from wreckage against medical advice, boyfriend insisted he was a doctor at a local hospital and had better admitting privileges. They were lost by patrol cars as they sped into the Arklay Park toward Raccoon Village. _

_ Has any patient turned up in Raccoon? Fredericksburg police are interested in identifying her due to concerns about human trafficking and her “family members” forceful removal of her from the car and refusal to hand in identification to authorities. A kidnapping investigation is ongoing. _

_ She’s approx. 5’8”-5’10”, 135-150lbs, brown eyes, brown hair, African American decent. _

Something about this was creeping Jill out. Another sheet of paper:

_RE: Jane Doe _

_ There have been no ‘unidentified women’ which we’ve run across here on our end. We will let you know. _

Jill knew she was being an idiot. She pulled out her phone again. Snapped a picture.

_RE: Jane Doe_

_ There is a hunt underway for Zahara Bryer. Her family declared her missing. Has she turned up at Raccoon General? Her physical description matches. _

_ RE: Jane Doe_

_ No such person has appeared at Raccoon General. We have not had any patient in our records matching the description of her. _

That made Jill go back to the list of names. They were numbered on both sides of the sheet. But they weren’t in a particular order that Jill could notice. Just numbered.

122: Zahara Bryer—D

She was the last one. They all had a –D. Jill wondered if those were deaths at the hospital. If so, why had Raccoon General’s correspondence say that she hadn’t been there? Everything felt icky. She put the papers away and set them into the cabinet, regretting coming.

The night became a blur.

She remembered laughing with Chris on their way out of the hospital. They sat on a bench. Jill showed him the pictures she’d taken. A man came up to them. He apparently knew they were wardens. The night got foggy. Jill felt anxious.

_She must have been dreaming. Everything was heavy and weird. The way that the world echoed around her, “What were you doing in the hospital?” Someone asked her. _

_ The room was cold. It was dark. She was tired, “What?” How much had she drank? Damn, maybe she’d gone too hard on martinis. She and Chris had gotten martinis right? _

_ “Drugged her. Too much.” Someone swiped a file off a counter. As if they were trying to intimidate her. Jill was confused. Maybe she should have been scared but she was tired. _

_ Was she back in the basement? It was a room._

_ “Where…are we?” She pressed her palm into her face. It was an interrogation room of some kind. A mirror and a television screen with a bouncing logo. Jill couldn’t focus. It looked like a red and white circle on the screen. _

_ “Who are you?” _

_ A few more exchanges. She was just confused, “They’re wardens. Let them go. They’re no trouble.” _

Maybe she’d fallen asleep somewhere. She was sitting at a bar, next, halfway leaning on Chris, “I’m tired.” She said.

“Me too.”

“You guys want drinks? I’ll buy.” Someone said. Her remembered that but not what he looked like.

Jill didn’t remember getting a martini. She didn’t remember leaving the hospital. Drunk. She was so drunk. Why was she so drunk? She woke up on Chris’ couch, wrapped in a blanket, still wearing her jeans.

She startled herself awake. _What? _Heart leapt into her throat, _how much did I drink? _Everything was gone. She remembered closing the filing cabinet. She remembered, vaguely, sitting on a park bench.

Chris was staggering out of the bedroom in his apartment, limping to the counter, “Is it just me or did we go harder than I thought?”

“I was…wondering that myself.” Her feet touched the floor. Socks still on, belt on her jeans had dug into her lower back.

She rubbed the spot where he skin had been indented, “Did we….drink martinis?” Jill asked him, pressing her fingers between her eyes. _You did not black out dear god you’ve never blacked out before. _Why couldn’t she remember?

“I….” Chris trailed off, “We must have…we must have drank a lot of martinis…”

“What happened after we left the hospital?” Jill asked him. 

“We sat on the bench.” Chris was rubbing his head. He was pale, looked ill, “You showed me pictures of the files. And then…we tried to go for martinis but we were really tired.”

_Fuck. _Where was her phone? Why didn’t she remember shit? That had been a strange, jarring dream about being in that interrogation room. _You’re guilty about going to the hospital. _Jill was dizzy when she stood, headache turned migraine. She closed her eyes and steadied herself, “I kind of remember sitting down. I don’t remember martinis.” She said, “I don’t remember much after we left the hospital. I had a weird dream about someone coming up and talking to us and about being questioned.”

“There was a guy…on the park bench.” Chris looked worried, “I don’t…remember.”

Jill managed to find her phone. Her jacket was tossed over Chris’ counter. She attributed that to her inebriated self as well.

She opened it up. It was six in the morning. A text from Wesker asking if they’d made it home okay and apologizing for leaving early. It was sent to both her and Chris. Jill opened up her pictures, feeling guilty again for taking them.

They were gone.

“I showed you pictures, right?” Everything was a weird blur in her brain.

“Yes.”

“They’re gone. I must have deleted them…I was feeling bad. But Chris…” Jill trailed off. She looked down at herself. None of her clothes were rumpled other than from sleeping. Pants on properly. She’d been with Chris so no one should have messed with her. Her arm was sore, bicep bruised as if she’d fallen into something, “This is weird. I didn’t drink that much. Three beers at the restaurant. That’s all I remember drinking. I shouldn’t be missing time.”

No vomit on herself or the couch. Just the discomfort in her head, a strange grogginess.

“Yeah.” He stated, “Same. Maybe we went out. Maybe we drank martinis hard. Jesus.” He rubbed his arm, pulling up his sleeve, “What did I do to my arm?”

“Me too.” Jill showed him her deep bruise.

“Did we get…drugged or something?”

“The photos of the files are gone off my phone.” It seemed all far away, like some scary story that their paranoia was spinning together.

“There was nothing really in the files. That lady’s name as somebody who died.”

“Fuck.” Jill said, “What was her name again?”

Chris pressed his face into his hand, “We broke into the hospital and took pictures of the files. We’re lucky we didn’t get caught.”

“What if we got caught and somebody wants to keep stuff quiet?” Jill whispered, a chill went up her spine.

“And then what? They drugged us. Dropped us off here?” Chris said.

“Well…” Jill shrugged, “Where are your keys?”

“I woke up with them beside my bed. My freakin’ wallet is on the counter. It’s not like we were robbed.”

And then they stopped talking, sitting quietly while Chris made them two cups of black coffee. He hers across the counter. “The woman in the files.” Jill stated, “Should we…get a drug test?”

“Do you want to explain this to Irons? I don’t know if I do.” Chris asked her, face pressed into his hand.

“Me neither.” She agreed. That would be an awkward conversation. Especially considering they’d broken into the hospital basement and photographed confidential records, “What was that lady’s name? The one that was dead. That people were looking for?”

“Her name…” Chris puffed out her cheeks, “It’s not a common name…some celebrity has a daughter named it. We were joking about that.”

That conversation might as well not have existed to Jill. It was all blank in her brain. She opened her phone up, typing into the search engine:

_Missing woman Raccoon Village. _

Dozens of results—Arklay Forest Preserve had a reputation for people disappearing. The forest was dense and the hiking was dangerous, especially in the mountains. It was a massive park and people got lost.

_Fuck. _

That didn’t help anything.

“What should we do?” Chris asked her.

Jill swallowed. The coffee was clearing her head, “Let it go. We need to figure out who the woman is though, the one who went missing. This is fucking crazy. We just got too drunk, right?”

“Right. Martinis.”

“Bank accounts. Do we have any charges on our cards?” She asked.

“Maybe we paid cash for them.” Chris stated. And they sat in silence.

“We should go to Wesker’s house. Later. He knows this city. Ask him if anything strange happens at the hospital.”

And Chris nodded along with her.

\--

Thanks for reading!   
  



	11. Chapter 11

We are about two chapters out from actually getting into my version of the Mansion Incident lol. Thanks again to all of my silent readers. Love y’all.

**Suggested listening: Kerosene By: Miranda Lambert **

**Chapter 11: **

She and Chris drank coffee, “I remember something weird.” Jill said. She didn’t look at him, only down into the mug.

“Me too.” He said, “The lab?”

“What? I remember an interrogation room.”

“We were dreaming.” Chris told her, as if he was trying to assure himself.

“What lab?”

“Must have been something at the hospital. I think security caught us.” He said.

“Maybe. And then we got drunk. And we don’t remember.” Jill kept staring down in the coffee, gently swirling the mug as if she would somehow uncover whatever the hell had happened to them if she kept playing with the grounds at the bottom, “Nothing happened. Let’s forget it.” Mostly she wanted to keep her job, “God, what was that woman’s name?”

“I don’t remember. “Chris pinched the bridge of his nose, “We drank too much.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Jill stated.

But Jill didn’t like it. “We have to say something.” She’d said that no less than twenty times on their drive back to her house.

“Go back to the hospital for a drug test? Tell the police what happened?” Chris shook his head, “That’s our jobs on the line.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Maybe nothing happened.” But they were both miserable on the drive back to the cabin. Turning down the gravel street toward the neighborhood in the park suddenly felt more sinister. The day was bright but it was always dark in here, it was June and the foliage was blooming. Thick and green and shady. Sometimes it was nice—walking home from work and having the break from the sun.

It was uncomfortable to be home later. Maybe Chris shared the sentiments, because he was procrastinating leaving—finishing paperwork at her small kitchen table. Jill sat at the counter. Her kitchen was lit by a salt lamp Wesker had given her as a house warming which cast an orange glow across the two of them.

“Should we talk about it?” Jill asked.

“Probably. But I don’t know what there is to talk about.” Chris said. And they left it there again. Eventually he left. Jill waved goodbye and felt alone. Her dark bedroom down the hallway bothered her. She turned on the light and pulled the curtains and sat at her counter.

Surprisingly, Irons didn’t call her to the office for the next week or the week after. It kind of…slid away. A strange experience she and Chris shared between each other and then never spoke of it again.

Jill was bored as she waited for Hector on a Friday night. Of course she hadn’t mentioned her and Chris’ experience to him. He’d laid off the insistence that she return to Albany.

Jill had her laptop at the bar, staring absentmindedly at the screen. _“You drugged her too much.” _

_“Take them out of here.” _

She still remembered people talking. Maybe she would have considered it a dream if it weren’t for the fact the word ‘drugged’ stuck so firmly in her mind. Someone had mentioned drugging them.

Jill tapped her fingers lightly over the keyboard.

_A celebrity’s daughter’s name. _

Did Winona Ryder have kids? No, she didn’t. Why was she thinking Winona? Who was associated with Winona?

_Jolie. Angelina. The girls in the hospital movie. _

Jill opened Google.

**Angelina Jolie Children **

She got a list of them.

_Zahara. _

That was the name. She and Chris had gotten derailed talking about celebrity children that went on to become movie stars. Or she might have dreamed that. Didn’t matter—it was all fog anyway.

‘Zahara’ wasn’t the most common name. She tried it.

**Zahara Raccoon Village. **

More common than she thought—there were already apparently several Zaharas in Raccoon. The white pages useless as they typically were. Facebook next. There were too many people. Jill pressed her face into her hands. _Last names last name. _

_Rabbit. _She kept thinking of a rabbit. She didn’t know why.

**Zahara Rabbit **

Other people had the name, but no one with association with Raccoon, it seemed.

_She died. She would have been dead. She died and went missing from an accident scene and they thought something strange enough was going on that a memo was sent to Raccoon General. Why, Zahara, why? _

**Missing people Arklay Preserve **

There were dozens of lists. She was able to find one from a more reliable source than conspiracy websites.

Ctrl-F

**‘ZAHARA’**

She wasn’t on the list. Jill read through the names to be sure. Because Zahara was the only thing she remembered.

She pulled up a word document and started to type. Her own report. Hobby report. Something happened to she and Chris, and Jill was going to get to the bottom of it.

_Subject: Zahara _

She needed to type out her thoughts.

_Possible missing person. Traffic accident with severe injuries. Suspected memo which Jane Doe might have been looking at. _

Jill shook her head. But it felt better putting it on paper.

**ARKLAY FOREST MAP **

Jill sent it to her printer and grabbed it, rolling masking tape between her fingers and hanging it on the wall. Raccoon was in the center of the park. Large swaths of untouched forest and unusable terrain with the mountains. Now that was on the wall, on paper. Easier to look at it. The next closest town was Fredericksburg.

There was one road. It usually took ninety minutes to drive through the park and over the mountains to get to Fredericksburg, sometime two hours with her old car, a lot of it was gravel and hard to pass in the winter. Jill grabbed her highlighter and ran it along the road that connected the two. There were several other smaller offshoots. A main highway which was an hour drive in the other direction. Raccoon was very isolated.

**TRAFFIC ACCIDENTS RACCOON PASS **

Nothing relevant. No list that she could find.

**ZAHARA CAR ACCIDENT RACCOON VILLIAGE PASS**

**0 Results **

And Jill found that jarring. There were never no results on the internet.

Why couldn’t she remember more?

Hector’s knock on the door startled her.

He greeted her with a kiss and bouquet of carnations. She wrapped her arms around him and his open mouth met hers awkwardly and they both laughed. Jill, embarrassingly, realized she didn’t have a vase and scrambled to stuff the stems of the flowers into her RPD water bottle that she had by the sink.

“It’s early still. Did you want to do dinner?”

“Yes!” So they went out. She told them about the things she’d been researching—of course leaving out the strange possible memory loss and breaking into the hospital. Hector still didn’t seem impressed.

“Jill.” He looked at her, “You sound like one of the conspiracy people.”

She didn’t know why she was whispering, “So you’ve never heard of someone called Zahara?”

“What, is she like the center of something going on?”

“No. Just a person. Like here. In town. An adult.”

“No. Seriously. This is what you’ve been up to?” Hector was chuckling down into his salad. She felt somewhat self-conscious about the fish and chips she was inhaling. _Good thing you didn’t mention the hospital incident. _What Hector didn’t know didn’t hurt him. The stupid shit she and her friend got up to drunkenly one night could stay between them.

Hector, however, wasn’t done at dinner. He was enjoying the rental Audi again and Jill was laughing. No matter where he was taking her as a ‘surprise’, she was also enjoying the fact they were on Raccoon Pass Road. The gravel crunched under the tires and he slowed to put on the signal. Lovers’ Lane.

“Seriously?” She laughed, “We are not fucking in the car! I am a warden! If we are caught it will be by my coworkers!” He pulled over at the gravel overhang immediately off the main road.

“Ah. Small wrinkle.” He leaned across the console to kiss her. Jill tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Big wrinkle, more of.” She turned her head to break contact. His teeth dragged along her neck, “Don’t give me a hickey anywhere that’s visible. Wait.” Something caught her attention. A worn angel statue was leaned against the tree. She was just able to make out the silhouette as the setting sun shone through the branches, “See that?” Jill unfastened her seatbelt and stepped out of the car.

“The…sun?”

“No. The angel statue. She’s big, down there.” Jill pointed. Hector came beside her.

“Oh, yeah. Probably a memorial.”

Jill vaulted over the barricade, into the thicket. It was a steep way down, “Jill. Seriously?” Hector sounded annoyed with her.

“Just give me two seconds.” But Hector was following her. He was swearing, wearing his wingtips was less than practical.

The thicket clawed as Jill’s pantlegs. She made it to the bottom, to the old angel statue which was leaned against the tree.

The plaque on it.

_In Loving Memory of Zahara Bryer _

_Bryer! Briar Rabbit! _

She’d died five years ago.

Jill grinned at Hector, “We found her! The accident was here! Oh my god, the car might have rolled over the edge.” Her hands were shaking. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. No reception.

“Jill. Come on. This is someone’s memorial.” Hector stated.

“But she might have been a victim. This is big.” Jill told him. 

And she felt…bad. Yet, not quite bad enough to stop her from texting Chris.

**Hey Chris. With Hector no reception so idk when you’ll get this. But Zahara Bryer. Died out on Raccoon Pass. You should look her up if you aren’t busy! I bet that’s the name that was in the memos. **

She and Hector let it pass. Laughing together as they drove around the park before opting to head back to Jill’s cabin for the night. On the way back her phone’s reception returned and buzzed with a message. She opened it when they got into the driveway.

**Jill. Holy fuck. Did you look her up? **

Jill squinted at her phone, feeling bad that she was on her phone when she was with Hector but he was on his email finishing up some work anyway. Fuck it. They were back at the cabin anyway. **No. Why? **

She was already grabbing her laptop.

**Zahara Bryer **into google.

An obituary. But Jill couldn’t read it. She was stuck looking at the picture. A strikingly beautiful young woman wearing an open-backed gown and looking over her shoulder. Perfect curly hair and a toothy smile. Distinctly pointed face and wide brown eyes.

“Oh my god.” Jill muttered. Hector looked up from his phone.

“What?”

“I don’t think Zahara Bryer is dead.” Jill turned the screen to him, “That’s the lady that was outside our house.”

Hector looked sideways at her, “Time to come back to Albany?”

\--

**Thanks for reading! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Like my writing? Want to flail about how excited we are to see Jill in RE3? Come to my Tumblr: Jkit45. **

**Warnings: Descriptions of gore/dead animals. **

**Chapter 12: **

Hector left at the end of the weekend again. It was a start of a fresh week. She and Chris had let the Zahara Bryer revelation drop. Maybe she’d faked her death for one reason or another. It bothered Jill but it was already a busy week. She’d been called in on an emergency Sunday night.

There was a deer shot out of season unsafely close to a camping park but they’d been able to find the man. Some idiot who had an expensive lawyer and he’d been let go. Overall, it was mostly a waste of time. She was tired already and the week hadn’t started.

On Monday morning Rebecca Chambers along with a Dr. Walker went out to dart some white tails to count the ticks on them. Richard, Enrico and Sully had gone with them on the overnight expedition. Therefore, she and Chris were sharing a patrol SUV.

Almost immediately the day started with a call on the radio: _“Hey uh, Valentine, Redfield?”_ Jill recognized the voice as Nevada, one of the dispatchers.

“Loud and clear. Go ahead.” Jill said.

_“There’s a call from a sheep farmer out on Old Pass Rd. He had most of his herd killed by an animal last night and he’s pretty shaken up. Three are dead.” _

“Damn…” Jill trailed off, “We’ll go check it out. Can you forward us the address?” It came and Chris punched it into the GPS.

“What do you think did it?” Jill asked, almost nervous. She’d probably not placed her hands upon a sheep during the course of her adult memory, but the fact that several of them had been attacked by an unknown assailant during the night made her uneasy, “I can’t say I’m an expert in sheep.”

Chris puffed out his cheeks. She eased their SUV down a winding gravel road, “Don’t know. Coyotes, maybe. There’s a possibility of wolves. Apparently a vet’s been called too so she might know better. My guess is a wolf.”

“Three sheep in one night? Wolves do that?” Jill gripped the wheel. She wasn’t looking forward to see some poor innocent sheep who had been attacked in the dead of the night, but taking reports, especially those involving the predators attacking domestic animals in Arklay State Park was a part of her job description. Wolves were protected, albeit elusive, so they’d have to mediate this issue between the farmer and the wolves.

A white van with a veterinary crest, the back was open showing containers of medicines. A woman stood on crutches, beside her a haltered sheep held by a man in flannel. The ewe was injured, hind leg lifted off the ground. The wool around her hip reddened with blood.

“Hi there.” Jill said, coming up to the crowd. She sheep stuck her head out and touched her nose to Jill’s elbow. She was awful cute. _And awful big. _The ewe had to be no less than a hundred and fifty pounds.

_Too big for a coyote. Maybe wolves since they pack hunt. _“How’s the girl?” Chris reached down and touched her head, “She’s tame. With all these people around her.”

“Yeah. Too tame. We realized last night.” The ewe had spotted brown and white wool.

“Oh, Geneva. This is Jill.” Chris said, “She took care of the old dog I fostered last year.”

“Hi.” She pulled the stethoscope out of one ear. Pretty dark eyes, short black hair. She leaned her elbow on her crutch to shake Jill’s hand, “Geneva. Good to meet you, Jill.” Geneva’s attention returned to the sheep before her, “Let me listen to her other side.” The sheep made a sound that reminded Jill of grinding teeth. She used her phone to take pictures of the injury on the animal, a claw mark running from her stifle to her hock.

“My uh…” The farmer cleared his throat, “Son can take you to the others. Doesn’t look like any wolf attack I’ve seen. They’re….they’re shredded.”

Two other uninjured attack survivors huddled in a small paddock behind the barn. They watched Jill and Chris pass, lying together in the back corner, chewing cud and watching. Doug walked them to an open field, “We were dumb, leaving them out. But they’re big girls—one-eighty each. We’ve never had a problem.” 

“Where are they?” Chris sounded nervous to ask, and Jill didn’t blame him. The fences were beautiful white vinyl with chicken wire along the bottom edges, a trough of water sparkled by the gate, untouched.

Doug let them through, “Watch your step.”

Within moments of entering the green pasture, Jill saw the clumps of wool. Red droplets across the grass, and then, her stomach twisted as she saw a hoof.

The sheep weren’t sheep anymore. They were in pieces.

“Wolves would drag them off. At least in my experience. Same with a mountain lion.” Doug told them. He looked about as ill as Jill felt.

“Maybe couldn’t get through the fence? It’s pretty secure.” Chris tried, “Maybe a hungry pack got in here. Any tracks?” 

They walked the perimeter of the pasture, but there was nothing. No sign of any animal which Jill could see over the grass. But she was no expert in tracking or any related science. She knew how to identify the tracks of animals when they were present and obvious, in snow perhaps, but not out here over this scrubby grass. It had been bone dry lately.

“Wolves? Feral dogs?”

“Would have to be a pack. Were hungry.” Chris sighed.

The sheep with the treated leg wound was returned to the paddock with the others, wrapped in gauze, she picked at strands of hay. _Hope you guys have a better night. _

Jill returned to the SUV with Chris, not looking forward to writing a report about what she’d just had to look at. _Nature is cruel. Sucks for these poor sheep. _Geneva was at the hatch of her own SUV, organizing her supplies in the drawers in the back.

“Looks like you got that sheep patched up for him.” 

Geneva shook her head, “Hate to drop more bad news on this poor family, but that ewe seems pretty sick. She’s got tumors in her neck and I felt another on her where that claw mark was. Gave them some pain medication for her but I’m not sure there’s much to be done other than make her last few weeks comfortable.”

Jill’s heart sank a little at that. She didn’t envy Geneva’s job, “That’s a shame.”

“Poor sheep.” Chris echoed.

“Yeah. They’ve had a tough time it sounds like.” She slammed the back of her hatch, “It was nice to meet you, Jill. Hope next time it’s not like this, but I’ve got to get back to the clinic.”

She and Chris took a drive into the woods, on a street neighboring the property. Back to their patrols. They were quiet, though. “I feel bad for the ones left. What they had to see that night.” Jill mentioned.

“They’re survivors.” Chris stated, “They’re tough. Had to be.”

Their patrol resumed. A false alarm call for another deer poaching which actually turned out to be a victim of a car, and then writing tickets to a group of men who they found fishing without licenses.

The day proceeded. Relatively normal calls and no more dead animals, thankfully. 

A man on the side of the road waved to them as they drove past. His waving became more frantic. He held tightly to the leash of a dog which wrapped itself around his legs. _Flagging us down. _Jill realized. She turned on the blinker and eased their vehicle to the side of the road.

“Hope he’s okay.” Chris muttered, stepping out of the car. Jill joined from her side. _Better to go on the offensive. _

“Can we help you?” He asked.

“Yes…Yeah. Thanks for stopping.” He was dressed in camouflage, but he didn’t seem to be carrying a gun.

“You hunting?” Chris asked.

“No, sir. It’s not season. Birdwatching.” He held his arms out to the sides. No holster on his belt or his leg that she could see.

“What’s the matter?” She asked.

“Saw something weird. Almost hesitant to tell you folks…”

She and Chris exchanged a glance. “We like weird.” Jill told him. The sun baked on the black shoulders of Jill’s uniform shirt.

“Uh. Well, there’s been some gunshots out sounding like they’re coming from the mountains. And just saw something else.” They were pretty deep in the park, Jill realized. It was very possible that someone was target shooting or up to no good. But she didn’t hear any gunfire currently.

“What did you see?”

“Like some kind of animal. Just darted across the street a few minutes before you guys came. Terrified Rex here, almost lost him off the leash.”

“What kind of animal?” Jill tried to clarify, “Like a coyote or wolf?” _And that’s where the wolves went after their night eating sheep. Terrorizing people walking their dogs. They shouldn’t need to hunt again so soon, though. _

“Eh…” He shook his head, looking back over his shoulder. He was red faced, sweating. His dog whimpered, looking over his shoulder as well, “No, no. Bald. Lumpy. The size of a big dog. Something was really off about it--mangy maybe. If it’s a coyote or wolf, it’s really damn sick. Rex was scared of it though.”

“Why sick?” Chris asked.

“It had like…lumps…and I said…it was bald I think. Maybe it was the way the shadows were hiding it but it had a big lump coming out of its shoulders.” He motioned to the back of his neck.

Jill wasn’t really sure what to say. _Sick wolves with rabies or something? _They were quite a distance from the sheep farm now. “So maybe like a coyote with cancer?”

“Exactly.” The guy said, “Just wanted to let you know, is all.”

“Okay. We’ll take a report.” Chris said, “We’ve got a crew out in the woods looking at wildlife health right now so we’ll pass the word along if they see anything.”

That was a good idea. Jill made a mental note to radio out to them. The Arklay Mountains were infamous for electronics not working. Some long story about being too far away from all cell and radio towers and nothing ever worked.

The man bid them farewell and continued on his walk. Jill picked up the radio while Chris finished typing in the details of the encounter into the laptop.

“This is Officer Valentine calling for team Marini.”

No response, as expected. Jill checked to make sure she was on the right frequency, “This is Officer Valentine calling for Team Marini.”

Static and then, “_Hey Valentine, dispatch here_. _You reading?” _

“Loud and clear.”

_“We haven’t been able to get ahold of them. They’re in one of the radio dead zones out there.” _

Jill frowned at that. Was that normal to go on overnights like that? She didn’t like to be without contact to the outside world, especially not if she was escorting scientists and responsible for their safety. Just because she’d taken some CPR classes didn’t make her a paramedic or an expert if something went tits up.

_“They should check in again with where they decide to camp for the night in a few hours. Is something wrong?” _

“Uh…Just a man thought he saw a pretty sick wolf or dog-type animal with cancer or something. Especially after the sheep thing, I was just going to ask if they’ve seen any diseased animals that might match the description of a canine type animal with…tumors?”

A moment of silence, _“Uh. No. Haven’t heard from them at all but I’ll ask. Is that it?” _

“That’s it, thanks.”

Jill put the radio back on the rack. Chris looked at her, “Is this weird?”

“I was about to ask you that.” She muttered, looking over her shoulder before getting back on the road.

Chris looked out the passenger window, “Arklay is weird. Today is weird.” The July sun baked down on them. Jill opened the window to get some air.

\--

**Thanks for reading :)** Comments give me life! <3 


	13. Chapter 13

**Long chapter but I’m on a roll with getting this edited and I wanted to finally start hitting more original story beats. **

**Hope y’all enjoy! **

**Chapter 13: **

Jill was tired and wanted to go home. It had been a long day. She was left, dragging herself to the locker room to change out of her uniform and slip her ring back onto her finger.

She twisted it absentmindedly on her way out of the locker room, “Valentine!” Irons called from down the hallway, motioning for her to come over.

“What’s up?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder. He whistled.

“Redfield!” Irons’ bark made her cringe, “Get down here!”

“What?” Chris looked as startled as she did.

“Listen. Phone on tonight. We haven’t heard from Team Marini all day. In case someone is hurt, you’re both on call tonight. We’ve got a police helicopter standing by if someone needs airlifted.”

She and Chris both spoke at once, “What?”

“Is that normal?” Jill butted in, “That can’t be normal.”

“Why would we think they need an airlift?” Chris asked.

Irons held up his hand. Jill cringed at that, “We haven’t heard anything. You know how radios are in Arklay.”

“But why are radios that way in Arklay?” Jill looked between the two of them.

A stuttering explanation about how the mountain range and the thickness of the foliage blocked the signal a lot of time which Irons and Chris choked out. Maybe there was something to that. She wasn’t exactly a communications expert either. Irons told her: “Stop letting your wheels spin, Valentine, don’t worry that pretty head.” That sent a jolt up her spine. _Excuse me? _“They’re fine. This is all precaution. It’s under control.” His face was getting red.

“Uh…Understood, sir.” An angry sweat prickled her back.

“Did you need anything else, Chief?” Chris sounded as put off by his sudden outburst as she was.

“Get the fuck out of here and keep your phones on. Come if you are called. This isn’t rocket science!” He snapped at Chris, then the two of them watched him march down the hall and slam the door to take him into his office.

She and Chris glanced at each other. “What’s his deal?” Chris asked her.

“That’s a good question.” Jill muttered, “Hopefully that crew’s okay.”

Chris shared her sentiments. They bid their goodbyes and Jill started walking home.

She didn’t sleep well, keeping her phone on the bedside table.

_Jill dreamed of the forest. Of turning in circles and seeing nothing but trees, of Zahara Bryer in her grey hoodie laying at the bottom of the ravine where the memorial was_. _A sheep carcass was next to her. _“_I’m not dead.” Bryer told her_, and then she woke up. It was three in the morning and she had no missed calls. It was hot, damn it was hot. The fan churned on its highest setting from the window.

_Bewitching hour. Fuck this. _Jill buried her head under her pillow and her heart knocked in her chest. She didn’t sleep until her alarm went off in the early morning. Too anxious to drink coffee, Jill sat at her kitchen table and looked out into the woods. _No news is good news. They must have heard from them. _

She choked down a protein bar and put on her work khakis, carefully lacing up her boots. _Make sure they’re laced good; in case you have to go hunting for people out in the woods. _Jill didn’t know why she had the thought but took extra care that they were tight and double knotted. Jill slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped out the door.

It was hot. No wonder she didn’t sleep well. A strange stillness in the air, thick with humidity. _There’s got to be a storm coming. _Jill returned inside, grabbed her RPD issued rain slicker and tossed it into her bag.

Wesker immediately stopped his car as she reached the end of her own driveway, “Need a lift?” He was wearing a vest that said MEDICAL on it, “We’re headed to the same place.”

Jill looked strangely at him but was happy to sit in his air-conditioned car. She tugged open the handle, “Same place?” She sat down with her pack on her lap.

“There’s a group that still hasn’t made contact in the park, apparently. I usually volunteer as a field medic when there are missing people and Irons called me last night to ask if I could help out today.”

“Wait…they still haven’t gotten ahold of Marini?” Jill looked strangely at him, “I didn’t get any calls last night.”

“Marini can handle it. They’re all survivalists and naturalists if the Chief told me the correct group. But there’re supposed to be severe storms today. I think we’re taking a helicopter out to see if we can spot the SUV they’re in and their campsite.”

Why did Wesker know this and she didn’t? Jill tried not to let that frazzle her, but her mind still got the better of her, suddenly wondering how secure her position at the station was if she wasn’t being kept in the loop. _Nature of the beast. You’re just a grunt. You won’t know everything. _But the fact that the neighbor who was supposed to be a doctor was dressed in the same khakis as she and wearing a pistol holstered to his leg made her wonder if Irons was more worried about the situation than he’d been letting on.

_Wesker is outdoorsy, you’re just not used to seeing it. He fishes with Chris all the time, doesn’t he? _“Did you…. used to be military? A military doctor? You look the part right now.” Jill asked him. She wasn’t sure why it came to her. Maybe the haircut paired with him suddenly in the crisp uniform and the pistol.

Wesker laughed at that, “You’re kind, Jillian. Had some training overseas.”

“When you were in med-school?”

He paused, “Around that same time, yes.”

She smiled at him, “Is it true you went to Oxford? Or is Chris bullshitting me?”

“A man can’t give up all his secrets.” But Wesker was smiling. They parked at the side of the building.

“If I was that smart, I don’t know I’d keep it a secret.” Jill said back to him, “Good for you, if it’s true, Doctor. Thanks for the ride.” They headed inside together where Chris was equally surprised to see Wesker. She and Chris split off from Wesker who got busy organizing first aid supplies.

_“They must be worried. They usually don’t call Wesker unless they think there’s a strong chance someone could be hurt.” _He whispered to her as they made their way to the locker rooms.

_“What’s happening?” _There was a door that separated the men’s and women’s halves, but it was thin and they often talked through it.

_“I don’t know.” _Chris’ voice was low, _“Just radio silence. We don’t know what happened? Silence this long is weird. Even for camping in Arklay. Everybody probably has their phone and radios. Why aren’t we hearing anything?” _

She took off her engagement ring and placed it on her locker shelf as she did each day at work, _“That’s a good question. Was kind of wondering that myself. And why Arklay of all places is where radios randomly stop working.” _

They stopped talking when Barry and Joseph loudly pounded into the locker room on the other side of the door. Jill carefully put on her warden polo and her safety vest which had VALENTINE printed across the back of her shoulders in reflective lettering. High visibility stripes across her chest. _At least we’ll be able to see each other in the woods. _

She knotted her short hair into a pony tail and with bobby pins to tuck it into her uniform baseball cap. The day moved fast. Jill hadn’t ever been instructed to pack for a possible overnight but there was a first for everything. If the predicted storms hindered their way out of the woods, they were staying in the woods, but between she and Chris they had a tarp, emergency blankets and water filters in their backpacks—the standard, apparently, for these rare situations. She took her first aid kit and flashlight. Her own pistol heavy on her leg. Jill took two clips for the pistol, attaching them to her belt, and then a sheathed survival knife which fit nicely into the side of her boot.

Chief Irons gave them an awkward speech about how the group was missing and pointed at the map as to where their last known location was. _Shit, they went far. If anywhere has no radio signals…that would be the place. _Jill thought. They stood around the conference room while Irons told them that there were severe rain and hail storms with gusty winds coming for the eighteenth time despite the fact it was already nearly one in the afternoon and they had to make it fast if they didn’t want a soggy night in the rain. Jill was on board with that plan, “I’ll defer the rest of the talking to ground team leader, Officer Burton.”

Barry cleared his throat, “Thank you, Chief. I think we’re well covered. Helicopter will drop us off and we’ll fan out. It’s too thick in there to drive so it’s likely they parked somewhere and hiked in. We’ll see if we can spot signs of them and then hit the ground. With the projected winds we don’t want our pilot to keep it in the air any longer than he has to.” Jill nodded along, “And for those of you who don’t know, Dr. Wesker here. He’s an emergency physician at the hospital. He’s got a full medical kit on his person. Let’s give the doctor a warm welcome.”

Wesker stood, tall and stoic in the front of the room. He gave a nod, “Hope I can be of service.”

An obligatory round of applause, “These storms aren’t waiting for us. Let’s move. Helicopter just got here.” Barry motioned for them to follow him and they did.

They clamored up to the roof which boasted a helicopter pad. It was a helicopter barrowed from the neighboring Fredericksburg, as usual with Arklay Park rescues. Raccoon didn’t have its own passenger helicopter for the police department, only smaller ones for emergency medical transport to the hospital.

“My name is Brad Vickers! Usually fly for the hospital but proud to join Raccoon’s finest today!” The pilot loudly explained, “I’m here to make sure you have an excellent flight!” He bumped fists with each of them as they entered the cabin. Jill crammed against the window. Chris sat next to her and Wesker across. Barry slammed the door once they were all in.

“Nobody get keyed up on me.” Barry shouted over the noise of the rotors, “In an out. Nice hike, boys.”

“Yes, sir!” A chorus of their shouts. Eventually they passed out headsets so they could hear each other as the rotors lifted off the ground. Jill dropped her radio piece from her ear, letting it dangle from her vest on its coil as she fitted the headset on.

“If the radios get funny,” Brad stated, they soared above the treetops. The park was lush, there was no kidding there. Nothing out of place that Jill could see, “I’m on the hospital flight crew channel, it’s number nine if we’re all on the same presets for the village. Not sure it will help.”

Jill made a mental note of that. _Two is police, three is wardens, nine is hospital flight crew. _It was a few minutes of flying, a few minutes became thirty, and then nearly an hour.

She was the one to spot the SUV, parked along the tree line in a small clearing, far from any paved roads, “There! In the clearing.”

“Where?” Barry asked her.

“Lost visual. Vickers, can you circle back?” Jill strained to see.

“I see it!” Joseph said, sitting at the opposite window, “Can you land in that clearing?”

“That I can do, my friends!” Brad stated, “Starting to get some wind so I’m going to set down to drop you.”

He set down in a sea of tall grass; Jill was glad when her boots touched firm ground.

“We won’t be long.” Barry assured him, “We’ll radio.”

“He’s dropping us?” Jill asked. Maybe she was being insubordinate, “What if our radios don’t work?”

“He’ll pick us up at this spot as soon as the weather’s clear. Should be fine to fly later this evening.” Barry told her and Brad, “Let’s test the radios.”

Jill reset hers in her ear. Barry pulled his own off the belt, “This is a radio test for team Burton. Are you reading?”

_“Copy that, team Burton.” _Nevada’s voice was staticky but present.

“Thank you, Ms. Nevada.” Barry boomed, his voice echoed in her ear, “All clear.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Wesker said.

They were loaded down their bags on their shoulders. Damn, it was hot. She was as white as a ghost; maybe today was the day her coworkers watched her sunburn into a lobster. She should have packed extra sunscreen to reapply. _Hopefully you get some time in the shade or it clouds over. _

“That’ll do, Vickers!” Barry shouted over the noise of the engine. Jill stepped backwards through the tall grass.

“Can he just wait a moment? In case someone is hurt? It can’t be more than a klick or two to the SUV!” She, Chris and Joseph exchanged glances but it seemed the plan was already in motion and the helicopter was off the ground. Thankfully the rotors were too loud for seemingly anyone other than Chris to hear her comment.

“I don’t know why they’re so worried about these storms. Look at these storms.” Chris quipped back at her, motioning at the perfect blue sky.

“Just because you can’t see the storms, Redfield, doesn’t mean the storms can’t see you!” Joseph told them. Jill snorted. They shaped up when Barry and Wesker glared at them.

“Fan out.” Barry ordered, “Hell are we paying y’all for? Move it!”

“Yessir!” They moved toward the SUV, it was a large amount of space to cover, walking their own trails three meters apart. Jill kept her eyes on the dark tree line ahead. Sweat wetted her forehead underneath her cap. The grass was tall and baking hot, insects buzzed her face. 

“Make sure to check for ticks. Check real good, Redfield, you too Valentine. The last thing you need is Lyme.” Joseph nodded at her.

Chris was deadpan serious: “Redfields don’t get ticks on them. It’s a known fact.”

“You and me, then.” He motioned between himself and Jill.

She would have quipped something back, but as they waded through the tall grass, coming over the crest of the hill in the middle of the clearing, she noticed the door to the SUV was left open. Both of them—the driver’s and backseat. There was a Land Rover, too. Probably Dr. Walker’s. The hatch was open, and a tarp hanging out. “What the hell?” Chris asked.

A gust of wind whipped across the clearing, the tall, dried grasses around them billowed and jounced. Jill swore under her breath. _No kidding on the wind_. Another hard gust slammed one of the open doors. The sound of it closing made her jump. It sure felt like a storm in the air, just a matter of it showing itself.

She forgot about it quickly. The SUVs looked like a lot of the contents had blown out in the wind. A backpack was left on the ground—one of the warden’s. She checked the straps on her own which held it firm across her chest and belly out of habit, “Wardens!” Jill shouted over the wind, “Is anyone there!?”

No reply, only wind. It threatened to take her hat off her head.

“R.P.D.!” Barry boomed. But again they were met with only silence. Jill slipped her pistol from the holster.

The warden SUV disturbed her. Piles of supplies left on the ground as if they’d been ripped out in a hurry. The backseat was pulled up, and the shotgun which was kept in a case beneath the seat of the vehicle removed from its empty case. A spent shell on the ground.

“They were shooting. Either that or the cars got robbed.” Jill said motioning to it with the toe of her boot, “I think this might be a crime scene. Should we radio this in, Burton?”

“More shells over here!” Chris was at the edge of the woods.

Barry looked shaken. Normally tanned face had turned pale, almost sick. She wondered if he was okay. Radio button pressed, “Dispatch, this is Officer Jill Valentine. We found the SUVs and there’s evidence of gunfire. Possible crime scene. Requesting immediate backup.”

Dead air.

“This is Officer Valentine, are you reading?” She chewed her lip. Only silence. “My radio isn’t working somebody else try.”

Chris stepped up, with the same result. She pulled out her phone. A warning that it had been roaming and charging her phone bill for the roaming minutes. _Fuck it. Okay. Roam. _Not only had it been roaming, it had been trying to load a fucking internet page while it was roaming, and her battery was nearly dead. She tried to text Nevada. The message failed. Then she got a low battery warning. She tucked it into her pocket. _Well unless there’s a phone charger out here that’s done. _

“No signal, either.” Jill stated.

“What the fuck is this?” Joseph muttered, “Do they only work if you stand in the middle of the field like an idiot.”

“Joseph.” Jill warned, sensing him getting riled and not having patience for it between the heat and the situation in front of them, “Someone want to walk out there with a radio?” Joseph volunteered. Chris and Barry had their pistols out too, walking the edge of the forest and calling names.

Jill watched Joseph trudge through the tall grasses, out to where the helicopter had landed. Her heart was in her throat. Jill sat in the driver’s seat of the warden SUV. The keys were left in the ignition, and they’d left the headlights on. She twisted the key. “Dead battery.” Of course. She went for the Land Rover next. 

Much like the veterinarian from the previous day, Dr. Walker had various supplies in containers stacked in the back. Little jars of alcohol to preserve ticks, the same brand she and Rebecca had been using. “Do we know that this is Walker’s vehicle?” Chris asked Barry.

“Matches the description. No reception to run the plate but I wrote it down.” Barry answered him. Joseph was jogging back.

“No signal!” Joseph shouted.

“What?” Chris squinted at him.

“Jamming. Are the signals out here jammed?” Wesker and Barry looked at her strangely as she said it, “I read there used to be military bases out here, are there still…things that are jamming the signal?” That was probably idiotic considering the websites she did her reading on. Barry was photographing the shells on the ground.

Jill glanced at Wesker, for being a doctor who usually worked in his cozy hospital, he seemed like he was falling straight back on military training like riding a bike—stoic and unflappable. Typical Wesker.

Everything felt unorganized. Jill didn’t know what to do. She just knew three wardens, Rebecca and Dr. Walker had ended up somewhere. And abandoned their cars in this condition, “There shouldn’t be.” Barry said, “Nothing’s jamming the signal.” He dripped sweat, shifting his weight back and forth and taking pictures with quivering hands.

_And I thought I did bad in the heat. _

____ _

_Thanks for reading! _

_ More Chris/Jilly-Bean goodness to come ;)_


	14. Chapter 14

**It’s about to get real, y’all. Took some extra time with this one trying to balance having enough description and keep things moving fast enough. **

**Warning: Gore**

**Chapter 14: **

“Any keys in the Rover?” Wesker asked.

That was a good question. Jill popped open the driver’s door. She felt around. It was growing dark as the wind brought in cloud cover. Maybe they had been wrong to joke about all of the storm warnings. She felt along the ceiling and in the glove box—a handful of papers and broken CD cases. “Nothing!” The clouds blew away again, casting hot sunlight across the clearing. By her watch it was already nearly five in the afternoon. They’d been walking the tree lines and calling to no avail for a while. Half of her still hoped the group would come popping out of the woods, a case filled with samples, and they’d all have a laugh over the dead SUV. _Damn it, Richard, left the lights on again. _

Though, as the minutes ticked past, that felt less likely. Another half hour, they walked through the field, trying to get a radio signal they’d had when they first got off the helicopter. “I don’t know if they’re coming back.” Barry sighed, “I think we need to look for them. If the radios are down—make sure you all stay within earshot.” He cleared his throat, “Until we know otherwise, I’m considering this a search and rescue. Let’s see how much we can find before the storms come in. If there’s hail, we’ll make a jog back here and get in the cars. Hopefully Dr. Walker won’t mind us sitting in her truck.”

“Yes, sir.” And they fell into a march down the trail. They’d already walked into the trees and past this trail head, they were going to have to hike out of visual of the clearing to see anything further. It was a long walk; nothing was out of place. The occasional mud puddle with a boot print suggested they remained on the right path. 

Over an hour following the trail until they were able to see the distinct nylon of tents. A water pot hung to boil over a smoldering firepit.

“This is their camp.” Chris said, “Left a fire.”

“Wardens!” Jill called out, “Raccoon Fish and Game! Is anyone there!?”

No response, the men called from behind her as well. As they got closer, the camp wasn’t in such good shape. There was the red tent that was standing up, another which had been knocked over. Something was wrong. Her heart pounded, she had her hand near her pistol.

It looked like dark liquid was pooled inside the tent, seeping through the outside nylon, “Hello? Anyone in there?” Jill called, she had her hand on her pistol, carefully stepping around to the front. The flap was torn off, and inside—_“Oh god!” _

It was blood— it was a lot of blood. Joseph rushed to her side, she and him creeping up to the entrance. It had been a person. A woman with blonde hair. Her face was gone, chewed, hands missing, innards torn out and dragged halfway out the tent. She wanted to heave—Jill had seen bodies before, but not in a long time, and not in this condition.

“Is that Dr. Walker?” Jill’s voice was hardly a whisper, “What the hell happened?” Her pistol was out, body became electric. Every bit of the woods felt like it was watching her, eyes scanned the trees, the scrub.

It was silent, broken by a heavy rumble of thunder. The sound of raindrops starting to hit leaves. Chris was behind them, playing with his radio: “This is Officer Redfield. Is anyone reading? Please respond.”

Jill flipped her radio to channel nine, “Is anyone reading me?”

Dead, it was all dead. Why was it dead? Why did they work earlier when the helicopter was still there? _Murphy’s law. _“Animal attack.” Wesker said, crouching in the entrance to the tent, “She’s been dead a while.”

“How long?” Jill asked.

“Maybe a day.” He stated, standing up slowly.

“We couldn’t get ahold of them. Fuck…” Chris kicked the dirt, looking miserable, rubbing his face, “What the hell has been happening out here?”

“Looks like they ran from the campsite.” Barry said, but Jill stopped paying attention to what he was pointing out.

_Instinct. _Jill felt like they were in the open. There were too many trees around them. Someone, or _something _was hiding. She opened her mouth to suggest they not have their backs turned to the wood and Joseph screamed before she got the words out.

A terrible, panicked shriek as a dog snapped its jaws around his forearm, he misfired his pistol, toward her and Wesker—which by some stroke of luck hadn’t hit either of them. Another flew out of the woods, leaping at him and grabbing his pack.

“HEY!” Jill shrieked at the dogs. Dobermans—or had been once. They were the right size, but that was about it, bodies were lumpy and hairless. The skin had split where there were massive tumors underneath, muscles overgrown on its shoulders and flanks. Jill had her pistol out. She shot overtop of the dogs, at the tree behind Joseph, trying to scare them off.

Another had his pantleg and yanked him to the ground, Barry cracked one over the head with a branch to no avail. _Aim. Breathe. Careful. _Her next shot went through the side of the dog gripping Joseph’s arm. It didn’t stop. _Attack frenzy? Not feeling pain? _ A fourth burst from the trees and then a fifth. Joseph thrashed on the ground. A dog turned toward Jill, teeth bared.

It looked like most of its skin was gone, sloughing off. Jill fired. Joseph screamed. Barry kicked one of the dogs and it turned toward him, but he managed to dispatch it.

She fired at the dog. Missed. Fired again. Straight through its chest. It still barreled toward her. Another shot and it went down. “These aren’t dogs.” She got a closer look at it—scaly, diseased.

Joseph was screaming. She fired. She fired. The dogs kept coming out of the woods, there were more of them. How many? All Doberman looking things. Another wrapped its jaws around Joseph’s neck. His screams turned to a terrible gurgle and silence. She fired, she fired. Nothing happened. Long, rope-like pieces were dragged form his body.

_This isn’t happening. _

Her gun stopped rocking in her hands. She was out of bullets. Someone was screaming—that someone was her, she realized. She’d been screaming “HEYYY!” at the dogs as if it would magically make them let go. The forest was alive. She looked to her left, a dog was stalking her, crouched and ready to jump.

_Oh fuck. _

An arm was torn off Joseph’s body. Two dogs fought over it.

_Oh my god. _

_ Oh my god. _

Jill knew not to turn her back. The dog stalked, trying to get behind her. She reached for her belt, trying to grab a fresh clip. A something else slammed her, cold and wet and bloody. Another dog.

Jill scrambled on the ground to find her feet, the dog stalking her barreled toward her. A gunshot. It fell. Wesker had his pistol, braced on his forearm with a knife in his other hand, “Chris! Jill! This way!” He shouted. Chris grabbed her by the backpack and hauled her to her feet. They were running; Barry a few strides behind them.

“Joseph. Somebody check Joseph!” Chris shouted. Jill touched him with her fingertips, urging him forward.

“He’s dead!” Wesker shouted back. How did he check? Joseph was covered in the dogs. Getting mauled. _What the fuck, oh god, what the fuck? _

Deeper into the woods, following Wesker. He carried his pistol as he ran, muzzle to the sky. A raindrop hit Jill’s nose, and then there was a downpour. Dogs snarled and gunshots went off behind her.

The rain made it hard to see, she almost slipped on wetting foliage. Downpour turned to torrent; water poured off her cap visor. She struggled to see. Thankfully, it seemed to slow down the dogs. Either that or she didn’t hear them on her heels anymore.

She was fast, Chris was a stride behind her. Jill’s pack grew heavy on her back. She sucked in breaths, coughing on rain drops. Pace slowed to be careful of where she was putting her feet so she didn’t fall as the wetness turned the forest floor slick. “Where?” She shouted at Wesker, trying to ask him where they were going, but the rain and their footsteps and breathing were all so loud.

“Keep running!” Wesker snarled at her over his shoulder. Jill glanced behind them. Barry and Chris were still with her.

Wesker let out a shout, turning with his pistol again. The dogs were on them. Wesker fired. They ran. 

Her lungs burned, as did her legs. They were far off the trail now, but Wesker was setting a fast pace. _Where are we going? _The torrent of rain and thunder made it hard to look up.

“Dogs!” Barry screamed, “Jill!” Something leapt from her side and grabbed Jill’s backpack, the force of it leaping at her sent her toppling, rolling. A terrible, wet, cold feeling of the creature as she rolled on top of it. It didn’t let go.

The two of them went head over heels, down the side of a ravine which had been obscured by the foliage. Chris shouted her name. There were more gunshots. Her momentum and the weight of her pack kept her rolling, air knocked from her lungs. Pain in her head, back. Her hat tore off her head and felt like it took a chunk of bobby-pinned hair with it—snagged somewhere.

Another dog grabbed the hat in its mouth. More gunshots, “BARRY!” Chris shrieked, “JILL!”

Jill couldn’t scream, she couldn’t breathe, she rolled, two dogs now, both had her by the backpack. Fabric was tearing. A hard landing in shallow, cold creek water. Knees screaming against sharp shale. They were so heavy, face pressed into the water. The animals yanked her backwards.

_I am not getting mauled! _

Everything was suddenly clear in her brain.

_Straps. Backpack. Off. _

She grabbed the first buckle and then the second, the dogs tore her off her feet again, a third joining the fray. Jill ripped her arms free and bolted. She sunk to her knees in the water, then her waist as it was icy and deep in the middle. The current pushed her a few meters downstream as she wasn’t expecting the strength of the water but she managed to trudge to the opposite side. The rain was pouring and it was getting dark. Thunder cracked, somewhere close. _Get out of the water!_

A dark shape. A house. Or cabin. Or something. She went down on her hands and knees when a boot caught a rock as she tried to leap up the bank where a structure loomed.

It was getting dark out, but a dark house was set a few meters back from the creek shore. Her focus fixated on a door. She sprinted. The rain was so loud, splashing in the water, was there a dog behind her? Jill didn’t dare look. Her pack bought her time, but they’d realize it wasn’t meat soon. Maybe the deeper water would slow them. Jill slammed into the door of the cabin, it was already broken and she nearly took it off its hinges. She scrambled to get it closed and turn the deadbolt which seemed to hold it well enough in place, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She choked out, she couldn’t breathe. Her head hurt, elbow tingled. She was drenched and drips poured from her hair into her face, pants and boots heavy with water, “There are dogs….didn’t….mean to break….in.” Jill couldn’t breathe.

She rested her weight into the door. Something slammed it and she merely leaned against the flimsy barrier. Her body quivered, knees stung. She opened her eyes. Dogs couldn’t open doors. She was safe. For the moment.

It was light in the cabin. A small lamp lit beside the bed. A man was slumped in a chair beside the front door. The distinct stink of death and rot. Bullet holes painted the wall around him.

He’d been brutally shot, dozens of times. She let her back slide down the door while claws scratched it, and stared, open mouthed, at the body. “What…the fuck…” She croaked to herself, knees jouncing with adrenaline and fear. Her pants were ripped over her skinned, bleeding knees.

_Joseph. Joseph’s dead. _Jill pressed her face into her palms, the world outside quieted, and she couldn’t move. She curled her knees to her chest, shivering violently. Her lower back, her knees, her wrist. Fuck, she’d done a number on herself rolling.

Jill shivered miserably, tears rolling down her face, mixing with the water dripping from her hair. _Oh, please be okay, Chris. _She leaned her head against the door and tried to breathe.

\---

Thanks for reading. I might add more to this but for now I’ve stared at it too long and just wanted to post. Enjoy!


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for reading ** **😊 **

**If anyone is super well versed in genetics/microbiology and wants to nerd out/let me bounce ideas off you, please let me know. **

**Chapter 15: **

Jill hugged her arms around herself. As she caught her breath and the wind gusted through the drafty structure, she was cold. Shivers worked their way up her spine and made her hands tremble. Sopping wet pants stuck to her skin. _Focus. Okay. Focus, are you hurt? _

Jill wiggled her fingers, working movement back into her sore wrist. Her knees next, she’d stung herself on the rocks, but as the moments passed, the pain subsided. _Bruises. You can take some bruising. There’s a dead body in here which means this isn’t safe either. You don’t know who killed him. _Thunder and rain pounded outside. She grabbed for her radio—entirely waterlogged. Same with her phone. They were both dead. Gooseflesh raised across her arms and Jill’s teeth rattled in her mouth. Out of habit she reached behind her, trying to get her rain slicker—

She’d lost her bag. Dumped it into the fast-moving creek where the dogs shredded it. _Maybe something’s still there. _But Jill wasn’t sure. _Alone. _A dark part of her mind sung to her, _alone, all alone. _

Jill’s knees and back protested as she pushed herself to stand, legs wobbled. She limped a line back and forth in the cabin as to get her circulation moving again. It was small. She popped the clip out of her pistol, finally able to force her shaking hands to insert a fresh one. She wandered to the bed in the main room, there was a binder she’d look at in a minute. Into the next doorway—the kitchen. There was a kettle of water sat on the stove. Jill frowned, looking at the body. _I’m sorry. _Jill felt bad as she took one of his kitchen towels, trying to dry her arms and face. Wetness squished in her soaked boots. She poked her head into the bathroom door to make sure she was alone and then sat at the table to dump the water out and re-lace them.

She stole a second towel, from the shelf by the bathroom this time, and used it to blot her knees. Nothing too serious, just friction burns.

Her vest was glowing under the dim light, a nice reflective x on her chest. _Target._ Jill unfastened it and pulled it over her head. She was chilled, and had to talk herself into keeping it off. She considered dropping it on the kitchen floor but didn’t want to leave any signs of her presence in the cabin (although, she’d already dirtied the poor man’s towels, but her name written in reflective lettering seemed like a little too much).

The man had left a tablet on his bed. Jill touched the screen, finding it was still unlocked. His email account was left up.

**Hey Smith, **

** Said you wanted to get more involved. You don’t have a science degree, which will be an issue, but I do recommend you do some reading. If you understand some basics of biology it will make a lot more things make sense as far as current events. I listed your email address on the company’s scientific journal subscriptions so you should be able to access the articles about current public research in the field. **

** I recommend reading up on cellular biology, DNA, RNA and viruses at a basic level and then dive into some papers about CRISPR-Cas9 and its capabilities/limitations as well as the various methods of viruses infecting cells. These will give you a better idea as to what is happening. **

** Let me know if you have questions. Great to have you on the team. Let’s get you a promotion out of this. Even without the science degree, the company loves team members who believe in the cause. There’re a lot of upward opportunities with security. **

** \--WB**

_So much for a promotion. _Jill frowned. It appeared he’d been doing the assigned work. The binder on the bed showed a colored diagram.

**HIV Infection. Diagram shows how HIV virus connects to CD4 immune cell. Viral DNA inserted into cell nucleus and then inserted into host cell DNA. As a retrovirus, HIV inserts its genome into the host’s DNA—providing many challenges to treatment. ** Jill set it down.

The binder also had written logs, which she found odd, but appeared he was still using paper to take notes on.

**Morning Check: 6:00, notes: n/a**

** 8:00, notes: n/a **

** 10:00, notes: chatter on police radio about sheep mauled by unknown animal. **

Jill felt goosebumps across her arms again. They were dated from the previous day. That was her and Chris’ call.

**12:00, notes: n/a**

** 14:00, notes: some strange noises in the woods. Unable to reach base.**

Then it was nothing. He must have been killed sometime the day before. _What the hell? _She set the binder down. So this man, Smith, was associated with security for something. Were there still bases out here? Scientific research going on? Jill closed the binder and tossed it onto the bed.

Smith, why was the name ‘Smith’ familiar? There were a lot of people with that name. She stepped closer to the body. He had a nice silver watch on his wrist. Jill didn’t know why she thought it: _a Rolex! _ The memories flooded, odd and dream-like.

_“Do you…h-have a Rolex?” She remembered a silver watch and being impossibly tired. So inebriated that she couldn’t hold her head up. Cold metal on her face, arms stretched in front of her. _

_ “You drugged them a lot.” _

_ “They won’t remember this conversation. They’re wardens that stumbled into the basement. She’s nobody.” _

_ “Well the man’s asleep.” Chris was on the floor. Jill didn’t know why she had the memory. She was face down on a table laughing and Chris was sleeping curled at her feet, “She should be.” _

_ “She’s loopy from it. She’s not having a normal reaction.” _

_ “Dose her again.” _

_ “Don’t want to overdo it.” _

_ Jill was just laughing. Why hadn’t she registered what they were saying? “What do you know about Umbrella?” He was rubbing her head, her back, “Are you going to be sick again?” Normally she didn’t like to be touched by strangers, but he was keeping her focused. _

_ “What?” She was laughing, it was so hard to focus, “Did…d-d-id… they buy you a…a.. watch?” Her jaw and body quivered, although she felt warm and happy. _

_ “Hey, ma’am. My name is Smith, I need you to concentrate. This is serious. No one will remember any of this, hun. You can talk to me.” _

_ “What’s s-s-er-erious?” Jill cringed and buried her face into her arm. A sharp stick in her bicep. Warmth filled her body and she slumped forward, face numb. _

Jill blinked, swallowing. _We were drugged. You were there. _She remembered his watch, of all things. Probably because the conversation they’d had about Wesker’s. Another Rolex had amused her drugged mind far too much. _What do you know about Umbrella? _

She opened the tablet again, minimizing the email. Just a regular background—some image he’d probably taken of the creek outside. She flipped the tablet over. A dirty, worn sticker on it. PROPERTY OF THE UMBRELLA CORPORATION.

_Umbrella. Again. _Jill signed, setting the tablet carefully on his bed. _Well… why the hell did you drug Chris and I out of our minds? Or was that just a dream I had? _It started to feel like it wasn’t. Especially not after seeing the watch again. Chills ran up and down Jill’s back. _What’s Umbrella doing? _

She didn’t know what CRISPR was, or much of the details, other than it involved biology and genetic science. That had been something mentioned in her snooping: Umbrella was working with technology that involved CRISPR. Something that had the potential to cure genetic diseases distantly in the future. 

_Maybe Umbrella is doing experiments out here. That’s why the dogs are messed up. _Jill dismissed it. She wasn’t a scientist, but as far as she was aware most things like that existed only in works of science fiction. _Chris. Barry. Wesker. _She had to find the others.

Jill heaved a breath. _See if anything in your pack survived. _She had her flashlight still attached to her belt and it was seemingly functional. The rain sounded like it let up. She poked her head out the cabin door. Still drizzling, but there was a break in the downpour. _Now or never. _She didn’t see any dogs. What was the alternative? Stay in the cabin and get shot if someone came back? Jill didn’t want to be shot nor mauled.

But her best friend, her neighbor, and her co-worker. They were all out there somewhere. That pushed her the rest of the way through the doorway. She took a hesitant step outside. Pistol tight in hand. The rain was cold on her arms. 

She listened. The only thing she could hear was the creek. With the rain in the mountains it had turned into a rushing torrent. The water was dangerous, now. There was probably flash flooding in some of the valleys around the park. _My backpack is gone. _She’d slung her vest over her shoulder. Jill heaved a breath and chucked the reflective thing into the water. She watched it get sucked beneath the rapids and disappear into the torrent.

Maybe that was a bad idea. But she didn’t want anything with her name on it anywhere near here. _Well, your blood is in there. And Umbrella is partially a genetics research company. They’ll hunt you down if they’re onto any of this. _ Jill somehow decided she was okay with that, but the last thing she needed was to be easily visible in a forest where she was being hunted.

_One foot at a time. _Putting distance between herself and the shelter of the cabin made Jill’s heartbeat jump into her throat. She stayed on the slippery banks of the creek, figuring taking her chances plunging into the water again was better than being shredded. One boot in front of the next, she kept her eyes on the woods which flanked her and kept checking behind her. Between the rain and rushing water, hearing anything else was impossible. Her battered, wet flashlight did a poor job of illuminating in front of her. The cloud cover made the night dark, Jill limped along. The steady raindrops wet her hair again, and the rain picked up as she walked.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but had no sense of direction other than they’d been running upstream. Maybe there was a crossing somewhere.

A dark structure loomed ahead of her, a bridge this time. With the speed and ferocity of the creek, Jill wondered about its integrity, but figured she didn’t have a choice all the same. She trotted across the wet, partially washed-out gravel, breathing only when her feet touched land on the other side. From there she had a better vantage point. Maybe she shouldn’t have crossed after all.

Further up the mountain, on the other side of the creek, she saw the glowing light of what looked like windows on another, larger building. Jill darted back across the bridge, flashlight at the ground. It had been reduced to a wet torrent from the rain which was picking up into a downpour again, but there was a definite trail.

She followed it, the trail dumped into a gravel access road. The forest opened and became an orchard. Apples, maybe, organized into manicured rows. The twisting branches cast odd shadows around her, but the grass was trimmed neatly between them. She kept moving, approaching an iron gate and a guard house before the towering mansion.

The guard house was empty. Jill shone her flashlight around. Just a folding chair leaned on the wall. She kept moving. Fingers wrapped around the gate, struggling to feel for the latch. To her relief—it swung open. She shut it behind her. In the fenced yard, she let herself breathe again, breaking into a jog up to the front door of the house.

Jill raised her fist and pounded, “Raccoon Fish and Game!” Her voice cracked on her last word, she did her best to steady herself, “Raccoon Fish—” The door swinging open caused her to nearly jump out of her skin.

The bright light pouring into her face was blinding, “Jill! Get in here!” Chris had his hands on her in an instant, “Jill!” On her face, lightly over her shoulders, elbows. Soft touches as if he was seeing a ghost. She gripped his wrists, and then let her own hands go up to his face. There was blood, scrapes along the side of his cheek.

“Are you hurt?” She asked.

“No! Are you?” He touched a mat of mud she didn’t realize was stuck in her hair. 

Jill brushed his mild wound with her thumb, “What happened? Barry? Wesker?”

“Is Barry with you?”

“No.” Her breathing was fast, she was blinking, trying to acclimatize to the bright light. “Is he with you?”

“No. Wesker…Wesker went out to look around in the yard. Was he out there?”

“I didn’t see him.” Jill said. She and Chris weren’t normally people to hug each other—actually, she didn’t think they’d ever hugged before—but suddenly he was holding her around the waist, her arms around his shoulders, “You’re alive.” She managed, voice quivering, “What is going on? Joe—”

“Joe’s…Joe’s dead…We lost you down that ravine. There were a lot of those…dog-things. Jill, I didn’t think…Fuck, I’m happy to see you.” Chris breathed. She realized she wasn’t the only one quivering, they rattled against each other. For a moment she stayed there, feeling his warmth on her cold skin, before they both pulled back.

“Are you hurt? Your face.” She asked him, reaching out and brushing the blood with her thumb again. He still had his backpack.

“No. Scraped on a branch. You? Not bitten, are you?” Eyes flicked her up and down.

“No. Just skinned knees. Why bitten?”

Chris exhaled, “Wesker was saying it could be rabies or something. That we wouldn’t want to get bitten.”

That made sense. As she adjusted to the light, she realized they were in a massive, three story foyer. A chandelier hung above their heads and a grand staircase stretched up before them. Marble tile floors covered with intersecting muddy footprints. Massive, floor to ceiling windows which reflected their own filthy, shocked faces against the darkness outside, “Who’s house are we in?” Jill asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I found another cabin. In the woods. It’s where I hid when the dogs took me down the ravine.” She stared at herself. Matted dark hair stuck to her forehead. Chris’ olive-skinned face tinted green, his broad shoulders sagging.

“What about it?” Chris asked.

“There was a body. A man….I remembered him, from that night. He was dead. Someone shot him out there.” Jill raked back her mud-matted hair, trying to get it out of her face.

“What night?” Chris was looking strangely at her.

“He had a watch. A Rolex. Maybe I dreamed it, but I recognized his Rolex. We had that conversation about Wesker’s watch when we were joking around, remember? We were drugged. I remember being injected with something.” She touched her arm where she remembered the stick, “You were asleep. On the floor. In an interrogation room. Forget it. I sound crazy.”

“A body?” Chris seemed confused.

“Out in the woods. Out in a cabin. My radio is dead, I took a plunge into a creek. He was shot. I couldn’t call it in.” Jill realized she was babbling, and forced herself to stop and collect her thoughts.

“I remember a lab still. From that night.” Chris said to her, softly, “But we can’t worry about that right now.”

“No. It’s important.” Jill swallowed, “I think he worked for Umbrella. I think Umbrella still might be doing something out here. That’s why they drugged us. It’s all connected, at least in my mind.”

Chris looked a little more incredulous at that, “Who’s the body?”

“Some guy named ‘Smith’. That’s all I know. Not helpful.” Jill said, “But he was shot, at least ten times. He didn’t…have a face anymore they shot him so much.” Everything felt numb, distant. She pressed her lips together and did her best to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat.

“Jesus…Who owns this house, do you think? This is a mansion. And it’s pretty well kept up.”

Modern construction, the gorgeous marble stairwell. A life-sized statue of some Goddess standing in the middle of the floor. Jill glanced around, “I didn’t think there were supposed to be estates or anything like this out here. They cleared land out front for an orchard too—this is a protected park we’re supposed to be in.” 

“You’re right. Nothing should be out here. But I’m not entirely sure where we are.” Chris said.

“Maybe we should have a look around.” She suggested, “See if we can find Barry and Wesker.”

­­--

**Thanks for reading! **


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys! I do get a fair amount of hits on this story as far as Valenfield goes! I’m super pumped for RE3, and actually do have a strong desire to write about Jill’s captivity with Wesker and Code Veronica X existing in the same universe as this fic. At this point, I’m planning on continuing posting it as a fanfic, so if you’re enjoying it, please let me know! Comments mean the world! **

**Even just random HCs and chatting about Chris and our favorite Jill Valentine make my day completely. Even if you hate it and my god-awful syntax, I still love the feedback! **

**Suggested listening: **

**_Girls Like _By: Tinie Tempah ft. Zara Larson**

**Chapter 16: **

“Do you hear music?” Jill asked Chris. As she’d gotten past her initial shock of staggering through the front door of this place and practically into Chris’ arms, she was starting to get her senses back. She closed her eyes, focusing.

The distant thrumming of a bass, like being down the street from a nightclub. Jill looked up the stairs, “I know Raccoon attracts people with money, but this is excessive. A ski lodge? We’re miles from even a c-store.”

“Miles from any ski slopes too.” Chris muttered, “If you’re into hiking, maybe, but this place is massive.”

“We should probably secure this place.” Jill told him, “If there’s music upstairs we might not be alone. And we should probably fish Wesker out of the yard.”

But her legs were already trembling with exhaustion. This place was huge. It made her uneasy. Jill and Chris looked at each other, “Is Wesker military trained? Because he suddenly acts like a soldier, not a doctor. Was he a combat physician?” Chris asked her.

“He says he had training overseas. Whatever that means.” Jill blinked. They poked their heads out the front door, calling for him. Rain fell in sheets again. She went out first. The fenced area of the front yard was rather small. Jill wondered if he’d gone out beyond the gate again. A dog slammed itself into the metal, making her jump. It crammed its head between the bars and snarled and snapped its jaws. She raised her pistol, aimed for the head, and pulled the trigger. It slumped and she was able to take a closer look at it. _Definitely a dog at one point. _But there was no more fur, and this one had massive tumors around its back and shoulders as well. The nose was missing as if it had been chewed off.

“The dogs are out in the orchard!” Chris shouted over the rain, “We should stay inside! I don’t trust the fence!”

Jill had to agree with that logic. If Wesker had gone back out the gates alone for some reason—well…Jill hoped he had a good reason, and that he and Barry were okay. Maybe they’d ended up in the backyard of the house somehow. It looked like it was walled off with brick.

Thunder cracked and the heavy raindrops turned hard and stinging. Hail. Jill was glad to dart back inside the mansion.

“Guess we start with this floor.” Jill stated. The door to the left was a dining room. It sat at least twenty. Perfectly set placings, wine glasses stuffed with intricately folded cloth napkins. Through the next door took her into a professional kitchen and then then were a restroom complete with stalls.

“Who has bathroom stalls in their house?”

There was a shower, too. Chris pulled open the door to it. Inside was a body. A woman. She was wrapped in a sweatshirt and curled in on herself. Her neck was swollen—large lumps. Tumors. Chris backed away from her, “Is this some kind of disease?”

“Let’s hope it’s not airborne.” She’d already gotten pretty damn up close and personal with the dogs. If it was airborne she was already probably exposed. _Check yourself for lumps later, I guess._ Jill bent down, touching the woman’s wrist. She was cold and stiff. No pulse, “She’s dead.” Jill stood slowly. A note was taped to the sink faucet, “Do not use/drink water until further notice!”

She only realized then how dry her mouth was. Chris was looking pale, “This is what we need Dr. Walker for.”

“Or Rebecca.” Jill muttered, “Rebecca’s an EMT, I think she mentioned.” 

There was a door to the backyard out of the kitchen. It was still pouring and hard to see past the foliage overgrown around the windows. A heavy padlock on the door, “Guess we’re locked in.” Jill tugged on the lock and let it drop, “If we find some wires I might be able to open that.”

“Barry did say you could pick locks.” Chris mentioned.

“Yeah, another thanks to ol’ dad.” Jill said back.

They made their way back to the foyer. A few doors into the back of the house which were also locked. Then a door on the other side. It was an art collection. Nothing noteworthy. A center painting of a man dressed in a suit.

“Oswald E. Spencer.” Jill read off his name, “Never heard of him.”

“Me neither.” Chris said. He raised his eyebrows at another marble statue in the middle of the room, this one a naked man rather than the naked woman that was in the foyer, “At least they’re into gender equality.”

“Seems legit.” Jill muttered sarcastically. She looked at the next painting. An orchard of apple trees, in bloom with a modern mansion behind it and a guard house in front of an iron fence, “They’re into sucking their own cocks apparently. Isn’t this their house?” 

“So is this.” Chris pointed. It was an aerial photograph of the orchard and mansion. There were more, smaller structures in the back. Maybe that’s where Barry and Wesker had ended up, Jill hoped.

A picture of another man, shaking Spencer’s hand. A third and fourth next to him. “Bryer. Primary investor in the Umbrella Corporation. Spencer, Ashford and Marcus, the founders.” Jill almost felt a swell of pride as she read off the description, “Umbrella. Again.”

“Is this one of Umbrella’s founders’ houses?” Chris wondered aloud. It wasn’t just random art anymore, it was someone’s weird conceited collection, “Bryer.”

Chris poked the man in the photograph. Jill made the connection when he said it, “Maybe he’s her father.” 

“Maybe.” Chris stated, and they left it at that, “Most people who work or hang out in Raccoon are in some way associated with Umbrella or its research. The hospital’s labs are the main place that’s always hiring all those interns and stuff. It’s not incriminating.” 

“No. Guess not. Interesting, though.” Jill stated. Another framed picture, some kids who looked like they were young teenagers standing around in the orchard, holding a bushel of apples. It wasn’t captioned, but it was a little girl with beautiful curly hair and a glowing smile standing next to an older boy who Jill wondered if he was her brother. _Zahara? _Could have been her, Jill supposed. But there were plenty of girls with curly hair.

She and Chris poked in a back closet, which seemed to be mostly storage of albums filled with family photographs and they didn’t waste their time picking through them.

Back into the foyer, up to the next landing and through a door to a hallway that overlooked the dining room. A woman was crawling at the ground. Jill’s stomach twisted as she made a pained noise. Chris and Jill rushed toward her, “Hey! Are you okay?” Jill asked, looking down she saw the lumps on her hands. A tumor on her back, “It’s okay, you’re okay.” Jill found herself saying, “My name is Jill, we’re going to help you, okay?” The woman didn’t respond, “Can you hear me?”

The woman made a strange, gurgling and hissing noise. She hauled herself to her feet and Jill stepped backwards. Her eyes were rolled back into her head, face bloody, “Hey, ma’am. Can you sit down?” Chris asked her, holding his hands out.

She staggered toward them, pulling her gums over her teeth and letting out a hiss, swiping at the two of them weakly with her outstretched hand. Jill stepped back. Chris had his hand on his gun, “Ma’am, we’re trying to help you.” Jill said, “It’s okay.” She lunged at Jill, gripping weakly at her shirt, hissing and teeth going for her neck.

Jill, sensing she was about to be _bitten, _shoved her backwards with a shout. The woman fell onto the floor, “Hands up, stay down!” Chris ordered.

The woman cocked her head sideways, hissing, pushing herself up on her feet again. She lunged. Chris and Jill trotted backwards, “Ma’am, hands up!” _Is she trying to bite? _Teeth were snapping, wild, wide eyes which were strangely clouded.

Jill noticed her chest—distinct wounds. _Bullets? _The hole beneath her collar bone had been surrounded by small lumps. _What? _

She and Chris exchanged glances. The woman was so thin she looked _emaciated._ Jill tried to grab for her tazer but realized she didn’t have it—must have lost it in the creek. _Goddamn._ Pistol instead. The woman lunged again. Chris fired, into her lower leg. _Chris! Holy hell! We don’t have medical people that can get to her! _ She collapsed but still crawled toward them, almost cackling, dragging her injured leg.

With a terrible crack of bone, the woman pushed herself to her feet, lunging again. _She’s…what the hell is wrong with her? _Suddenly she was on top of Jill, her back pinned against the wall, the woman making terrible laughing noises and snapping her teeth. Chris stood to her left, shouting. He was out of the way. Jill fired, into her chest, feeling her own tears in the back of her throat. The woman didn’t stop, though. She kept snapping jaws, inches from Jill’s face. Chris pulled her from Jill, shoving her to the ground. He fired into her chest. She was trying to stand again.

He was always a marksman. His next shot landed into her forehead, and she went down. Body stilled on the ground before them. Jill leaned against the wall. Chris touched her elbow: “Are you okay?” Jill stared at her. She’d never shot anyone before.

“Yes.” But she stared, unable to blink, at the body before them. She was still now.

“I don’t think she’s human anymore.” Chris stated, “She was really sick. Like the dogs.”

“Oh my god…” Jill managed to breathe, “It affects people, too. She was trying to bite.”

“Are you okay?” Chris asked her again.

Jill nodded again, “What the hell is this?”

Chris’ hands were shaking, “I don’t know. But did you see the way she stood on that leg?”

“I shot her in the chest, and she didn’t move. I shot her, Chris, I’ve never shot anyone.”

“I shot her in the head.” He looked as disturbed as her, “I knocked her down and shot her.”

They stared at each other wide-eyed, “She’s not human.” Jill approached her, “Whatever she’s sick with, they don’t…”

“Let’s keep moving.” Through the next door was worse. A bedroom. On the floor was a body, another leaning over it. Both tumor covered and bloodied, the one still alive tore into the other with his teeth, snarling.

“Jesus.” Chris growled.

He stood, snapping his teeth and cocking his head sideways. Jill fired, her bullet hit his head and he crumbled.

The body which had been being chewed on stayed motionless. Filled with tumors. Dead eyes stared distantly at the wall, “We need to report this. We need the CDC.” Jill stated, “USDA? WHO? This is some kind of disease.”

“And there’s infected animals running around the woods. There’re campsites all over the park.” Chris swallowed. They closed the door to the bedroom. The woman they’d dispatched was still lying, motionless on the ground. Jill heaved a breath and stepped around her, “We might be exposed.”

“Let’s not think about that. We weren’t bitten, right?” Jill pressed, “If we are exposed it doesn’t matter.” Where the hell this bravado was coming from, she didn’t know, but it was all strangely clear in her mind, “We need to find out what the hell happened here and get contact with the outside world. They’ll have to quarantine the park. Quarantine us, too.” Jill hated doctors, the thought of being quarantined in a hospital somewhere made her a little queasy, but she knew she point: “We can’t handle this alone. Even with radio contact the wardens can’t handle this. And if we’re infected.” She puffed out her cheeks, “We might not have a lot of time.”

Chris stared at her, nodding along with each of her words, “Right…Right. What first?”

“We keep securing the house. See if there’s anyone alive in here.” It was the best plan she had. Jill honestly didn’t know what they were going to find out, but they had no radios.

“Maybe there’s a landline.” Chris suggested.

“Good!” She nodded with him, “Great. That’s a good idea. There’s probably a landline if the reception is this bad out here. Do you have a cell phone?”

Chris pulled his out. It still had battery, but it was roaming too. “I tried to text Irons. It didn’t send.”

“Can you call nine-one-one? Doesn’t that always work on roam?” Jill suggested.

Chris tried it. The phone wouldn’t even dial out, “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Jill said, “That’s fine. We’ll find a landline. And we’ll find some survivors and ask them what the hell was going on out here. If they even tell us.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Chris stated, “We’re here to rescue them. And awful charming.”

“Right, right.” Jill stated, “Look at us.” She motioned to them, if she looked as wide-eyed as Chris they must have _positively oozed the appearance of safety and professionality, _especially filthy with torn clothing, “We look like we have it under control.”

“Right. Let’s find these people and get the fuck home.” Chris nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s.” Jill stated. She still swore she heard the thumping of a speaker like someone was listening to music, “Starting with where the hell the music is coming from.”

\--

**Thanks for reading! I always wished the games gave us a little more detail about the trust fund kids of the Umbrella Corporation. **

**Drop me a comment ; ) **


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you to anyone who’s reached out here and to me through Tumblr! It makes me want to write more of this. Again, come flail with me: JKit45 : ) **

**Suggested listening: **

**_She Wolf _By: Shakira **

**Chapter 17: **

They made it up to the third floor of the house. The music was louder now, thumping from inside the room. She motioned with her eyes. Chris nodded. “RPD!” Jill shouted, Chris entered the room first, she stormed in behind him.

It was a weird repeat of months prior. There was a CD player turned on, it thrummed with the bass that Jill had been hearing intermittently as they’d walked through the house. A woman with her dark hair pulled back and wearing a grey, rain-speckled jacket. She had her back to them, picking through pieces of paper, “Zahara. What the hell are you doing here?” Jill was too tired to be eloquent. Using her name made her jump. _Good. _Chris kept his pistol pointed at her.

“Turn around and keep your hands where I can see them.” Jill told her out of habit.

“Or what, Warden?” She asked, raising her hands and pivoting on her toes. She made a pop with her mouth, “You’ll shoot me?” She grinned, cocking her eyebrows at them, “Or try to taze me like last time? Are you even supposed to be in here?”

Jill felt the tendrils of fear wrap around her neck, humiliated, almost. As if she was being toyed with, “Get on the ground.” Chris repeated. Jill figured Zahara wouldn’t. She was too cocky, and had a point about their status in this house. She sank in the desk chair, hands up. At least they had her cornered this time.

“I don’t want any trouble with you two. Looks like it’s already been a night?” She grinned, eyes flicking over them, “You look nervous, the both of you.”

“Are you her?” Jill asked, “Zahara Bryer. The woman who was in the car accident?”

“The one and only.” She said, “Is this an interview?” Her hands were still up, eyebrows cocked.

“What are you doing?” Chris demanded. It seemed to only amuse her further. She wasn’t put off by them.

“I’m Zahara. Nice to meet you.” She had a face mask pulled down around her neck, the neoprene kind with a grotesque smile of screen printed sharp teeth.

“Reading about your own death that night in the hospital?” Jill asked her. _Umbrella’s people like to suck their own cocks. Assuming she is one of their kids. _

She blinked, “Sure. Whatever suits you.”

Didn’t matter, Jill asked the next question she had: “What’s happened here? In this place?”

Zahara glanced around, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Bullshit. Your photo’s downstairs. You know.” Chris told her.

“Is it?” Zahara shook her head, “How about this, love. You stay in your lane and I in mine, and maybe you get out of here alive—”

“Is it Umbrella?” Chris cut in. Zahara stood, hands still up, “Sit down!”

“Are you going to shoot me? Because that seems a little aggressive considering you’re Raccoon’s Fish and Game department.” She looked between the two of them, sidestepping with her back against the wall. She was working her way toward the door. It wasn’t like they could stop her. She wasn’t threatening and might have had more reason than them to be in this house in the first place.

“At least you owe us that. You were stalking my house.” Jill told her, positioning herself in front of the door, “You don’t want to put your hands on a Raccoon Fish and Game Officer. And I sure as hell don’t want to make a problem with you. I just know I’m stuck here too and I want to know what’s going on.”

She cocked her head sideways, “It looks like you’re blocking the door, Warden. Am I being detained?”

Chris and Jill exchanged another glance, “We’re not detaining you. I’m asking you for help.” Jill spoke up. Maybe appealing to the human side of it all would get her further.

She stepped toward Jill, who held her ground, “Valentine.” She warned. Her eyes were amber in the faint glow of the decorative lighting in the room. There was something inexplicably off about her and Jill couldn’t place it. She was…fidgety. Chris and she exchanged another glance between each other.

“What does Umbrella do out here? Are we sick? From being around the sick dogs and people?” Jill asked her.

“Just don’t get bitten. Or drink the water, I hear.” Zahara stated, “Please?” She motioned toward the door.

“So it is Umbrella?” Chris pushed.

“I don’t know what Umbrella does. But if you enjoy being alive, I suggest you leave and speak of nothing that’s here. I have work to do, love.”

“What does that mean?” Jill asked, “Listen, we can all get out of here togeth—” Zahara squeezed past her and yanked the door open, “Hey!” And she was out the door. No point chasing her, but Jill darted out behind her to see she was already down the grand staircase and then bolting through the front door.

“I think she left something.” Chris stated. Maybe they’d bested her once, they’d surprised her, after all. Jill decided to roll with that possibility. Jill rushed to meet him at the desk in the library. It was a folded piece of paper—a handwritten note. It had been folded and crinkled several times from the looks of it. Almost perfect, type-writer like handwriting.

**Z, **

** To think I believed those boys when they came crying to me about your accident. My sister and I heard rumblings of your survival, and I was able to have one of my birdies find you. You’re in New Orleans. He will give you this letter by hand. Believe me, if I found you, you ought to get better at being dead. **

** I have work for you. In Raccoon Village. There’s an expected sabotage at the Arklay Facility—a thank you for keeping the rest of the company so out of the loop of everything that’s been going on. You know the one. Time to give you a test drive. If the facility goes offline, there will be a small window for you to get in and take the lab’s data. There’s a USB attached to this with software that has the capability to crack Red Queen, you’ll just need to get to a higher clearance employee’s computer. I recommend you bringing that data back to me because others will be after it, but I assure you I’m your best option. You’re practically another sister to me and Alexia, and she’s keen to learn from you. **

** Because we have eyes on you. And others with means of making you actually dead do as well. I’m sure you can figure it out. Besides, my sister is desperate for another powerful woman to join us out here. We have a home for you. Stop running. Come home to your family. It’s bad enough we’re all so separated these days. **

** \--Alfred**

“What fresh hell is this?” Chris asked her. Jill didn’t know.

“She’s hired by someone. They knew something was going down.”

“Proves that there’s a facility out here. You were right.” Chris spoke at the same time as she. Jill was distracted by the phone on the desk. She made a grab for it. Holding the receiver to her ear and trying to dial, Jill realized it was dead. The line connecting it to the wall was cut. She dialed nine-one-one, uselessly, and then slammed it back into the jack, “Sounds like she was in hiding.”

“She knows a lot more than she was telling us, I’d bet money on it.” Jill stated, “Not that it really matters.”

“Well, she confirmed you have to get bitten.” Chris puffed out his cheeks, “So we’re not currently dying.”

“That’s one good thing. I say we beat her to a computer. See what’s going on in this place.” There was a desk computer, but it was dead. Maybe it was already too late. The cords connecting it to the wall were also cut. Maybe she’d accomplished her mission and was on her way out. Jill supposed the dogs outside were Zahara’s problem. She’d see them growling and patrolling the fence and have to figure out her exit. Lightening illuminated the dark square of the skylight above their heads.

The library was larger than she’d initially thought. Multiple shelves and more study cubicles in the back. Bean bag chairs tossed in a pile against the wall. Jill reached out and turned off the music. She immediately regretted it: everything was too quiet.

The books were thick science texts—_Principles of Molecular Genetics_, _Biotechnology of the 21st Century, Encyclopedia of the Human Genome. _Another section completely on virology and pathogens. A door out the back of the library took them outside again—a high balcony with tables and chairs and a garden of potted plants. The rain had let up, Jill could see the lush garden in the backyard and a distant house. The guest houses she’d seen on the overhead picture. There were lit windows. It was a hike, and heading outside seemed unnerving, but she wondered if Barry and Wesker had made it there after all. Jill pointed it out to Chris.

“That’s the next place to go. We need to find something to knock the lock off the back door.”

“Let’s finish looking around up here and then go.” A massive saltwater tank which they passed in the room opposite to the library. Colorful fish swimming carelessly under florescent lights. Strangely peaceful. It was another bathroom, and then what seemed to be more offices. A security room which also had all of its camera feeds and wired devices cut. Jill puffed out her cheeks, “Think Zahara did all this?”

“Maybe. Or maybe somebody else was covering their tracks. Think Zahara shot that guy out in the woods?” Chris asked her.

“Hard to say.” Jill had forgotten about all of that in the whirlwind, “Maybe he was infected and tried to attack. Like that lady above the dining room.”

Chris let out a huff and seemed to shudder. Despite the wires being cut, there was something of use. Chris showed it to her, grinning boyishly: bolt cutters. They been set down in a pile of tools on one of the shelves. Red shiny handles and fresh silvery blades, “Sexy, huh?”

“Damn, break hearts with those?”

“About to break some chains. Chains of love.” He said. Jill rolled her eyes.

“What does that even mean?”

Chris snapped them a few times, “I don’t know. Let’s go downstairs. I hate this house.”

“Me too. Let’s never come here again.”

“Bryer can keep it. Live here all by herself. Stop showing up in town.” He muttered while struggling to cut through the heavy padlock that was keeping them out of the yard. He tossed the cutters aside.

“I don’t have a lot of bullets left, Chris.” She stated, “Think there’s anything out here?” Everything was sopping wet, water pouring from the thick foliage. Jill stepped out. It felt open, unnerving. The water on the ground steamed with the humidity in the air.

“Me neither.” He stated, “Let’s hope for the best.” 

They crept their way, boots sinking in mud. Movement beside her, “Dog!” She shouted, “Stay back to back!” She raised her pistol, breathed, fired, missed. _Crap, crap, crap. _Jill swallowed. She and Chris kept moving.

He shot, a dog yelped. She saw it crumple out of her peripherals. “We’ll get there. We’ll get there.” He kept saying. Jill appreciated the reassurance considering they were less than halfway. They stepped over a wooden footbridge which took them over a koi pond and then worked their way around a lap pool. It was darkened by leaf litter and dirt from the storm. Each sidestep as they watched each other’s flank brought them closer. A hundred meters, then fifty. Then twenty. The drips and the way the water reflected the light and the hedges blew in the wind. Everything moved. Multiple dark shapes yipped beneath a row of rose-bushes.

“Dogs!” She shouted, “Fuck it! Run! Go!”

She and Chris spun and bolted, toward the relative cover of the guesthouse. They leapt onto the deck, dogs on their heels. Jill spun, aimed, fired. One flopped to the ground. Another snarled and crouched. Chris grabbed the door and yanked, “It’s open!”

Jill didn’t need to be told twice. They made it through and slammed it behind them, hardly managing to shove the dog outside. 

The two panted, looking at each other, “We need more ammo.” She said, “I wonder if somebody has a gun in here.” She leaned on the door while the dog slammed it. They were in a tiny, dark mudroom. Piles of boots and jackets heaped along a bench built into the wall, “The knob’s broken, we need to block the door.”

“We should have torn apart that security office.” Chris said, digging between the coats and tossing aside a shoebox filled with tennis balls, “They might have had weapons. Didn’t think of it.”

“We’ll get a hold of someone.” Jill assured him, not sure where it was coming from, “We’ll find a phone. They’ll come looking.”

“I guess they’ll call somebody eventually, but my emergency contact person is out here.” Chris muttered.

“Finding anything?” She asked, thinking about when they’d passed the stupid paper emergency contact cards out at the department a few weeks back. Jill pinched the bridge of her nose, “Mine too—my contact. Is it Sully?”

“No. If I’m bleeding out I’m not asking for his advice. You’re my emergency contact.”

“What am I going to do if you’re bleeding out?” Jill muttered. It seemed the dog had moved on, but she kept her weight leaning on the door, staring at him sideways.

“I don’t know, provide positivity?”

“I could probably find some horsehair if you wanted.” She giggled at her own joke. God, she was wrung out. The Jill-nervous-awkwardness was in full force.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Chris continued, “I always figured you’d be with me and you could get ahold of Claire.” Jill turned from pressing the bridge of her nose to rubbing her face, “What? Come on. You’re responsible!”

“No. It’s just…you’re my contact, too. I figured…you could get ahold of Hector and he’d probably never pick up the phone from the department anyway. If I’m bleeding out please never call Hector or he’ll tell my mom and they’ll lose their minds. Wait until Wesker fixes me in the interest of everyone’s sanity.” She leaned her head on the wood, “Why are we both idiots?”

“…You don’t want us to call Hector?”

“Do you want me to be forcibly dragged to Albany, Chris?” 

“If Hector is physically capable of dragging you, of all people, anywhere, while in his little stockbroker uniform, I’m going to have to …seriously reconsider listing you as my contact.”

Jill snorted, “I’d like to see him try. Stockbroker uniform?”

Chris laughed with her, “Why is he always in a suit?”

“Him and Wesker are both always in a suit.”

Chris shook his head, “Wesker does not wear full suits the way Hector does. Is he going to be pissed at you about this whole getting chased by rabid dogs incident?”

“Wesker? Why me? Maybe the department as a whole for dragging him out here. I’m not too happy myself.”

“I meant Hector.” Chris clarified.

She sighed against the door, “Probably. He’ll probably have my mom call me—because they text for some reason— and yell at me to come to Albany.” That was going to be a fun conversation. Of all things Jill wanted to entertain doing after this nightmare was over, telling Hector about the experience sounded like a whole new can of worms. She wanted to be cozy and at home and showered and sprawled out on her bed. Or maybe on Chris or Wesker’s couch if they let her—being alone so close to the woods as her cabin was after this wasn’t a great thought either.

Telling Hector the details of this whole cluster fuck would have to wait until she was a little better rested. _That’s if you don’t get quarantined and interrogated for hours after this. This is a bitch of a story and a report. Joe’s dead and you guys shot someone. _Jill’s stomach clenched and she felt cold. _Stop thinking. Now. You still have to make it through the night here, lady._ “He doesn’t like me telling him about this stuff.” Jill explained while Chris was trying to find something the right size to jamb against the handle.

“Like work stuff?”

“It just makes him nervous.”

“Maybe we’re the idiots. Getting chased through the woods by dogs. Finding some weird disease.” Chris muttered, “Probably getting the WHO involved.” He’d found a broom handle. They jammed it into a seam in the wooden floor and against the door.

“I can’t think about the WHO right now.”

“Yeah…what happens to us after this? If this actually is some conspiracy?” He looked at her.

“I guess we have to worry about it then.” Jill swallowed.

__

**Gosh I love healthy and supportive relationships where personalities are well matched. ;) **

**Thank you for reading. **


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks to all of my readers/commenters ** **😊 **

**Chapter 18: **

Jill pushed herself away from the doors, fighting down the fresh wave of adrenaline trembles from their run through the garden. Everything was numb, _another near-death experience. Write that down for therapy later. _She thought sarcastically. She and Chris were faced with another door. This one a heavier wooden barrier that took them into a main hallway with a hardwood floor.

Immediately Jill wished they hadn’t. That they hadn’t come out here. Hadn’t walked in the door.

There was a body, crumpled at the end of the hall. He was covered in tumors and curled in on himself, hardly recognizable. But Jill knew who it was, and Chris did too. “Sully.” He managed, heaving another fast, trembling breath, “Oh, fuck.”

Jill didn’t know what to say, or what to do. She stood, frozen, before forcing herself to move again and grasping one of the coats from the mudroom they’d tossed on the floor. She bent down, still numb, unable to speak because she knew words would make her loose whatever composure was left of her and checked his pulse.

His cold, damp skin made her stomach shutter, “Is he..?” Chris asked her. He sounded like he was swallowing a break in his own voice.

_“Yeah.” _She mouthed, unable to make sound come out. Jill reached down, “I’m sorry, Sully.” She swallowed, over and over, taking the pistol clip off of his belt and folding his limp arm over his lap, “I’m gonna have to barrow this.” She carefully draped the coat over his head. That was the right thing to do, right? What was the right thing to do? Jill hung her head. Chris swung back and punched the wall, then shook his hand, grimacing and clutching his knuckles as if he’d hurt himself. She gave Sully a pat on the shoulder before she stood. Chris had leaned his head against the wall, breathing hard. Jill brushed her tears with the relatively clean crook in her elbow. There was another door: “This way.” Her voice was rough. Chris didn’t budge. So Jill went to him, and not sure what to do, touched his back lightly between his shoulders, eyes finding a spot on the wall and fixating at it.

If only she could be the wall. Turn into it. Absorb herself into that little spot and forget all of this ever happened.

Chris was silent, and Jill, never a wordsmith, had nothing. As she stared, her eyes caught an email which was printed out and hastily taped at an angle on a message board. She reached out, making sure to keep contact with Chris’ back (an instinct inside her chest told her if she let the contact break both would crumble). Paper ripped from the wall; Jill brought it close enough to read the tiny text.

**Arklay Facility Emergency! **

** Clearance: SUPERVISORS AND ABOVE ONLY! CONFIDENTIAL! DO NOT PRINT! **

** There has been a spill of a viral agent at the facility. It is likely that the lab and mansion’s water supply are contaminated. Eat packaged food and bottled water only—see your reporting manager for water ration instructions for your team. **

** Containment help is en route, but there are reported issues of power failures in the lab which may mean Bio-Organic Weapons (hereafter B.O.W.s) have been released. The mansion complex is very secure, there is no need for panic. Security is trained in the handling of such situations. This memo is for your knowledge. **

** The agent released is known as “T-Virus”. It is not airborne and there’s no need for alarm as long as proper protective knowledge is executed. **

** Infection with T-Virus: **

** Avoid bites from non-manufactured creatures/infected. Their blood and saliva is the virus’ main method of spread. **

** It is recommended to avoid sexual contact with those believing to be infected until the all clear is given. **

** Avoid drinking, bathing in or otherwise using facility water—it’s believed a large viral load was spilled into the purifier in a lab accident. Although T-Virus is rendered inactive quickly without a host organism, it is best to avoid all facility water until proper testing gives the all clear. **

**IMPORTANT:   
Due to a breach in the containment of manufactured organisms as well as the accidental exposure of some of the facility’s guard dogs, there is a difference between ailments from bites. **

** T-Virus: the virus is spread by accidently exposed non-stable B.O.W.s/blood/saliva contact with infected. These creatures can be identified by visible lumps and lesions they develop from exposure. **

** T-Neurotoxin: spread through bites from stable, manufactured B.O.W.s **

** The Neurotoxin has been artificially added to the company’s weapon lines to make their bites dangerous but curable. This is in the interest of environmental safety and preservation of company materials; manufactured organisms do not spread the virus through their bodily fluids. **

** Viral Symptoms: **

** High fever, visceral pain, chest pain, lumps/lesions on skin, heavy thirst/salivation, signs of mental/neurological degeneration. Advise management if you or your team observe these symptoms. **

** Neurotoxin Symptoms: **

** High fever, body shakes, intense muscular pain/cramping, light sensitivity. Advise management if you or your team observe these symptoms. **

** This incident will be handled quickly with the upmost professionality. There is no need to fear. Trained help is on the way, in the meantime, keep doing what you all do best! **

“So much for supervisors only.” Jill pressed her fingers a little harder into Chris’ back, “Someone printed out an email. This facility, whatever or wherever it is, is producing biological weapons.” That got him to pull his head from the wall, eyes flicking back and forth as she held it up for him to read.

“That means we get out of here and expose this.” His hands seemed functional, at least.

“Figure out what’s going on first.” Jill said. She pulled her fingertips away from him.

“Guess we have to keep moving.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” She swallowed her nerves. They stormed the next door. A woman filled with tumors, wearing a lab coat. She crawled on the ground and groaned. When she saw them she let out of a hiss and dragged herself forward. Jill raised her pistol and fired. Mark hit. Woman down. “Neurological degeneration.” She shivered.

There were a few bedrooms. The doors were all opened, some broken off their hinges. A deep gash was in one of the sheet-wood walls. Three lines torn into it, partially pulling off the panel, “Do those look like claw marks?” Chris muttered.

“I hope not.” Jill swallowed again, “We don’t know what the hell they were creating out here.”

The rooms had been opened, several bodies had been left on the beds, “So much for helping them.” Chris stated. They were tumor ridden. Most had been shot, it seemed. But it was…hard to tell.

“Guess the staff lived out here. These are bunk rooms.” She figured. They kept moving, crossing a living area with a pool table and large fireplace. She went for the vending machine. 

“God I’m thirsty.” She muttered, pressing the buttons even though she knew she didn’t have cash on her. Each showed that it was sold out. _People probably hoarded it, if they were locked in here and they weren’t allowed to drink water. _

“We’ll find something.” Chris looked at her anxiously.

“JILL!” Someone boomed from further down the hallway, “Is that your voice!?”

“Wesker!” She shouted back, words echoing in the narrow hallway around them. Another slender walkway filled with bedrooms. The door at the end was closed.

Jill jumped despite herself when it swung open, “Wesker! I’m glad to see you.”

“Likewise.” He stated. His hands and arms were bloody. There was noise from inside the room. Rebecca—she was talking to someone, “Rebecca and I are with Richard. He’s wounded badly.”

Jill wasn’t prepared for what she was going to see. Richard was laid on the bed, they’d tucked him under the blankets. Rebecca, talking softly to him, was hunched over his form and gripping his arm. She was quivering, as was Richard, pulling in shallow breaths.

“J…Jill..” He managed, gurgling and sucking in another breath. He had deep wounds across his chest and abdomen, packed with bloodied towels. Pale, sweaty face on the pillow.

“Rebecca! Richard! It’s good to see you.” She touched his ankle overtop his boot for a moment, smiling just at the fact that there were survivors other than she and Chris: “What happened?”

“You…guys…C-Came…for…us…” He smiled at her, face twitching.

“Yeah, of course. We’re going to find a way out of here.”

“Forest and….a-and Kev…” Richard swallowed, and stopped, panting, gagging up blood which Rebeca mopped from his chin. Rebecca shushed him, pressing her hand to his forehead. She was splattered in blood, body quivering. She wore an oversized coat and a pair of dogtags around her neck. Some kind of combat vest which Jill knew didn’t belong to her buried underneath the fabric. Everything was bloodied, filthy.

“Forest and Kevin are dead.” Rebecca said, “So is Dr. Walker. And Sully.” Her voice was drained, rough like she’d been crying. Her wide, green eyes distant, “We’re not sure about Enrico.” 

“Forest and Kevin?” Jill asked. She watched Chris collapse into a chair. His body was quivering too, face pressed into his hand. Sully and Forest were his friends. His leg jounced, he stared off distantly. Wesker was looking out the door, pistol drawn. It made Jill nervous—_what’s he looking for? _

He closed it and slipped back inside, “Rebecca?” Jill asked, looking at her bloodied face, “Are you hurt?” She took a step closer, reaching out to Rebecca’s forehead.

Rebecca held up her hand, turning her head away, “N-No. I’m fine.”

It occurred to Jill that the blood on Wesker and Rebecca was from Richard, “What happened? Kevin and Forest aren’t supposed to be out here.”

“They sent them. About a night ago? How many days have we been out here?” Rebecca looked around.

“Just going on two.” Wesker answered. Chris was silent. He stood, coming to Richard’s other side.

“Were they attacked too?” Chris looked confused. Jill was going to ask the same thing.

“I couldn’t….couldn’t shoot…” Richard panted, “Too many.” He was shaking his head, “… setup.”

Chris took his hand and squeezed. Jill stepped back, trying not to crowd him while he was struggling to breathe. She could smell his metallic blood, the stink of their sweat all crammed in the tiny room, “There are other monsters. Umbrella is manufacturing biological weapons. The consensus is that some are venomous, and some spread the virus but I’m not really sure how it works and it doesn’t matter.” Rebecca was speaking quickly, “There are strange…reptile things…he was attacked.” She stood on trembling legs, raking back filthy short hair. Jill could see that indeed the blood was not hers, just stuck to her face, “We all got separated.”

“Who sent Kevin and Forest?” Jill was confused, “We heard nothing about them being out here when they sent us. Only you guys.”

Rebecca shrugged, “It was when everything was still normal. We were setting up camp. They walked in from the other direction—said they got a radio call that we might need some help. Within a few minutes hell broke loose—”

“Us…set up.” Richard nodded. But he was getting tired, Jill could tell. His breathing had a distinct rattle of fluid in his chest. He collapsed back on the pillow, body quivering. Blood soaking through the towel Rebecca held. There must have been massive injuries in his stomach and chest.

“I know.” Chris assured him, patting his hand, “We’re going to find who did this. We’re going to let every authority we can find know what’s going on and stop it.”

Richard gave a weak single nod and closed his eyes, “Hey.” Rebecca stated, pinching his arm, “Richard, stay awake, come on!” He hardly roused but she got him to blink a few times.

“Captain Marini. Where is he?” Jill pressed, “Barry?”

“Enrico was alive.” Rebecca was looking at the floor, “Him and I went our separate ways. I was trying to help someone else.” She tucked the dog tags around her neck into her collar. Jill didn’t press about that, or why they would have separated, “There was another whole power plant—underground. It powers this facility, we think. It’s infected too. I…I don’t even know who Barry is…I’m sorry, Jill.” Rebecca was rocking herself. _Oh, you’ve been through hell. _Rebecca had survived an extra day of this. Jill hardly could imagine it.

Jill swallowed, “Doctor?” She asked. It seemed like everyone was falling apart and Jill wasn’t keen to stay in one place longer than she had to. Chris was wobbling on his feet and distant, clinging on to Richard. Rebecca looked like she’d been dragged through a meat grinder. Wesker just stood, watching them all. Jill felt like she was going to be sick and needed some air outside of this room, “Can I talk to you?”

“I’ll come too.” Chris let go of Richard’s arm for a moment. Rebecca stayed at his side, hugging herself and curling on the chair.

“Of course.” He said and motioned for her to follow him outside the room. God, she was thankful for his calmness. Even her typical skeeved-out-by-doctors self was comfortable with him. He had_ serenity_ about him.

“How bad is he?” Jill asked, she’d folded the memo she’d ripped off the wall and tucked it into her pocket. Paper pulled out and shoved into Wesker’s hand, “I found a page about symptoms of being infected.”

“He’s not feverish. Got clawed. The reptiles don’t look sickly like the dogs. Maybe their bites are toxic. This virus doesn’t stop at the lumps, it doesn’t seem.” Wesker muttered after a moment of scanning the paper, “They’ll seem dead but…they get up. A body with no pulse stood up when I came in here. I figure you have to hit the neurological system to stop most of these creatures. The virus somehow regenerates them…it’s remarkable.” 

“I don’t know if any of this is remarkable.” Jill had her pistol out, eyes sweeping back and forth across the hallway for _reptiles _as Rebecca called them. 

“They stand up and try to bite.” Chris finished, swallowing, “Fuck, we should put a bullet in…” He hiccupped and covered his mouth, “in Sully.” 

“It’s okay. It’s okay—” Jill tried to say.

“It’s not okay, no! I should have been thinking—”

“Chris. We’ll take care of it. I promise. We’ll backtrack.” Jill closed her eyes, back against the wall, desperately trying to keep herself steady. _For the sake of everyone’s sanity we need to get out of here, _“How’s Richard?” She asked Wesker.

Wesker shook his head, “I lost my kit. I need sutures, an IV, pain medication—”

“Do you think we can find it?” Jill didn’t mean to cut him off but was flustered herself.

“I pulled this off one of the bodies.” Wesker had a key chain clipped onto his belt. There’s a key labeled ‘first aid room’, there was a locked door in the back of the foyer of the main house labeled ‘first aid room’ as well. Maybe in there.”

“Write a list.” Jill said, “We’ll get it.”

“It’s too much.” Wesker shook his head, “And there’re…creatures in the garden. I’ll come with you.”

“I don’t want to put you in danger.” Jill told him.

“Kind of you to worry about me, Ms. Valentine, but I promise I can handle a gun.” He smiled, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t come.”

“Richard needs you.” Chris stated.

“Richard needs me to get the correct supplies and we might need to improvise. We don’t know what’s in there. If anything.” Wesker cut him off, “Rebecca is an EMT. She’ll be fine. She needs someone who can keep an eye on them if more of those reptilians come back.”

“Chris? Do you want to keep watch here?” Jill suggested, “Wesker and I will make it back to the big house.”

“You want to go back into that garden?” Chris stated, “No way. That was rough just us two crossing. I’m coming too.”

“Chris. I agree it’s a bad idea but if something fucks with Rebecca and Richard they’re screwed.” Jill lowered her voice so she wouldn’t be heard through the door, “Rebecca’s in no shape to fight and he sure as hell isn’t either. She’s a science intern.” Jill glared at him.

Chris was silent for a moment: “No. There’s another way.”

“Please, tell me you have another idea…” Voice even lower, through her teeth: “You saw him! He is dying, Chris—”

“Jill!” Chris’ whisper was harsh, “He’s not dying.”

“Jill’s right.” Wesker cleared his throat, “He doesn’t have a lot of time and we’ve torn this place apart for supplies. We have a shotgun in that room that Rebecca found. It’s loaded. Figure Jill knows how to use it.”

She nodded, “Yeah. And I have another clip.” She handed the one from Sully to Chris, “In case the reptiles show.” They re-entered the room.

“Rebecca.” Jill said, “We’re going to try to find supplies. Chris will stay with you. The doctor says you have a shotgun?”

“Yes!” Rebecca seemed to perk up at that, probably feeling like she was being helpful. She got off the chair and ducked under the bed. She pulled out a police-grade shotgun, carefully handing it to Jill with the muzzle down.

Jill cracked it. Seven shells. She’d have to make it last. Her pistol was a comfortable weight on her leg. Knife rubbed her ankle. She was angry, angry that Richard was hurt, that Rebecca was here, that Kevin and Forest for some reason had been sent out before them and they’d never heard word of it. She pumped the shotgun to chamber the first round, “You guys okay for a few minutes?”

Rebecca and Chris looked between each other, “Yeah.” Rebecca managed meekly.

“See you soon.” Chris’ voice was tense.

“Yeah.” Jill swallowed, “Soon. You too.” She had to go. Had to keep moving before the gravity _that people were dying and Chris was worried that she might not come back _caught up to her. Because she was worried too. She was worried about reptiles. About Richard. About not being fast enough.

“Are you ready?” Wesker asked her, checking the slide of his pistol.

“Let’s go, Doctor.”

**\--**

**Get ‘em, Jill. Sure you wanna be alone with Wesker, girl? Thanks for reading ; ) **


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks for reading. I have a lot of parts moving in this chapter and kind of held it back while I was struggling with how much I wanted to give away. It’s dialogue heavier than I wanted it still, but that tends to be a struggle of mine. Have a day off today where I want to bust out the next chapter in a coffee shop after a lot of work/grad school applications yesterday. **

**Definitely a little Chris/Jill goodness I wanted to add in. **

**Hope y’all enjoy.**

**Chapter 19: **

Wesker, surprising to Jill, was as insistent as she that they stopped and took care of Sully. She pulled the coat off him and closed her eyes. Wesker was also the one who made sure he would not stand up again, the gunshot echoed in the hallway.

She swallowed and re-covered him. They went to the same door she and Chris blocked with the broom, “There were dogs out here. At least two more. Maybe a third. They’re under the hedges.” Jill stated.

“We’ll cut through the vegetable garden.” Wesker told her, “It’s more open.” The storm had stopped for the time being.

“Where’s that?” Wesker was already out the door. Jill hurried to keep up. It didn’t seem Wesker had any desire to stay back to back as she and Chris had approached this. The shotgun was heavy in her hands. 

She trotted backwards, seeing nothing. Wesker was setting a fast pace ahead of her. _Slow up, doc! _Half of her wanted to shout that, but maybe she and Chris had approached this too cautiously before. Jill decided she wasn’t opposed to clipping along. They darted through rows of pea plants and tomatoes growing on trellises, thick foliage still dripping from the rain. The moon was out, now, casting a faint light between the clouds. Mud and water sparkled on the stone pathways.

“Dog!” Wesker shouted. As soon as it appeared, he aimed with his pistol braced on his forearm. One shot. It hit the ground.

“Good work!” Jill told him. She was impressed. Whatever training he’d had—it had been solid. 

They hit the back door behind the dining room. There was stained glass along the back of the house which she noticed for the first time as they got themselves through the door and shut it behind them. Images of the Umbrella Corporation logo in the sky like the sun, casting light over an orchard, “Jeez, have some interesting tastes, don’t they?” Jill brushed her fingertips over the glass. Wesker didn’t say anything in response. _Move your ass, Jill. Richard needs medical supplies. _No time for sight-seeing.

She jogged to keep up with Wesker. When they hit the foyer, she noticed more boot prints in and out of the door. Probably Zahara, “Did you see that other woman that was around?” She asked him.

“What other woman?” Wesker was already at the locked door, fiddling with the key he’d found. The deadbolt popped open and he shot her a satisfied look.

“Hey, good work.” She stated, “There was another woman here. Tall. Thin. I think she works for the company and they sent her after data—”

Wesker paused before opening the door, “After data?” He snorted, “Well, good luck with that.” He shoved his way through the door, pistol pointed into the hallway. 

“That’s what I said. I just care about getting out of here and getting ahold of someone.” Wesker found a light switch. Fluorescent bulbs flickered on. It looked like a small lobby of a first aid center. There was a reception desk with a sealed glass barrier.

**EMPLOYEES PLEASE SCAN BADGES **

Not having badges to scan, Jill and Wesker hopped over a plexiglass security barrier which took them deeper into this little medical-seeming office. The stench of death and rot, sweet and pungent. Jill did her best not to breathe through her nose. Two bodies laid on gurneys with sheets pulled overtop of them. She and Wesker filed into a medical room. A clean, padded bench and cabinets filled with supplies. “I’m guessing Richard shouldn’t be moved?” This was probably a better place for him if they could get him to it. 

“Yeah. Likely has a spinal injury.” Wesker informed her, “It’s safer to bring supplies to him.”

Jill found rolls of bandage gauze. She grabbed them and ripped the case off the pillow on the bed, using it to stuff with supplies. She handed it to Wesker.

“Oxygen.” He pointed. Jill grabbed it—it was a small tank in a nylon bag which had a strap she slung over her shoulder. She tightened it so it fit snuggly on her back and wouldn’t bang on her hip when they ran.

_Hopefully no reptiles over at the guest house. _Wesker worked on knocking the locked handle off a medical storage closet with a metal pipe he’d found. There was an office at the end of the hall. Curiosity got the best of her, and it seemed Wesker might need to take a minute to sort through the supplies anyway.

Jill figured he wanted to be left to it. The office had a large desk and several computers. The PCs merely blinked a blue screen.

**HARDDRIVE ERROR. **

Either Zahara had gotten in here too somehow and locked the door on her way out or Umbrella was smart enough to purge their systems when things went tits up. Jill scowled and backed out the door, taking herself back to Wesker, “It’s me out in the hall!” Jill told him, knowing she was making a lot of noise as she checked the other first aid room. Nothing except benches and unused supplies. 

“Zahara Bryer.” Jill shouted down the hall, “That’s the woman. Heard of her?”

A few moments pause before he shouted back: “No, I haven’t.”

“She faked her death. Apparently died in a car accident on Raccoon Pass on the way into town.”

“Maybe I heard of the accident. Name’s a little familiar.” He stated. Jill saw that he’d found a saline bag with a plastic wrapped IV kit. Several vials of medications which he dumped into the pillowcase and a sheet of individually wrapped syringes, “You said she’s here?”

“Yeah. Around. Looking for computers, we think.” Jill explained.

“We should probably move before she causes us trouble then.” Wesker decided. They clamored back over the plexiglass barriers, Jill taking the bag from him while he stepped over before he took it back and slung it over his shoulder.

“I don’t think she gives a fuck about what we’re up to.” Jill shook her head, “I’m not worried.”

“Can I ask you a question?” It was weird to hear Wesker say that.

“Shoot.”

“What made you come here?” He asked her, “To Raccoon.”

“The game warden initiative. I was offered training as a cop back in Albany through an outreach program—they shipped me to New York City. Then there was the pitch about a similar thing in Raccoon: trying to get more people from urban areas into town.” Jill was careful because the dining room felt exposed. She looked up to the balcony, halfway expecting someone to be watching them from above. Thankfully nothing. 

“You were a convict, weren’t you?”

A jolt went up Jill’s spine, “I wasn’t convicted, no. Did Chris tell you that?” That was a little personal, but Wesker hung out with the wardens a lot. It wasn’t necessarily a secret.

“You and Chris told me once. You’re too talented to sit in a cell, Jill. A woman like you can change the world.” He told her. Maybe it was meant as a compliment but the sudden strange insight into her life coming from the man walking behind her started to feel awkward. _He’s had a long night too. _

“Yeah. Right. Becoming a game warden. First step.” Jill swallowed, “After you, doctor.” She opened the door to the kitchen. He acted like he wanted to stay behind her now and Jill started to be bothered by it. Maybe he was more nervous than he was letting on, “Let’s save the shrink shit for an actual shrink.”

“I don’t mean to step on your toes.” Wesker seemed amused. His disarming smile he had about him, “Just remember. I’ve talked to you enough to know you’ve got an impressive resume. A resume a little too impressive to be recruited to this village’s tiny police force. There are a lot of places for you in this world.”

_Maybe it’s the near death experience thing where he feels like he’s got to unload all these deep thoughts. _It didn’t make Jill any less uncomfortable from his sudden word salad about her life, “Heh.” She forced a nervous laugh, feeling like showing her discomfort would make things even more awkward, “Don’t let Hector hear that. He’ll demand I go to Albany after this.”

“You can do a lot better than Albany. A lot better than being a cop. Did it ever occur to you that those outreach programs often are looking for people who can turn their career into something more?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” She wasn’t. She was tired. Maybe she should have nodded along dumbly to get him to shut up. He paused, looking at her before he opened the door to the yard.

“I’m just putting pieces together. Your father is Richard Valentine, isn’t he?”

“That I don’t love bringing up.” Jill wasn’t fond of dropping his name in relation to hers but his case was relatively high profile and it wasn’t hard to find out. He’d been up to a lot more with his breaking and entering ways than the stupid armed robbery where she got caught with him and his compatriots and the media turned it all into a frenzy. Some stupid service he offered where he posed as an employee just about anywhere to steal as much info from that business as he could and sold it to whatever competitor unofficially hired him. 

“I’ve dug into conspiracies about this town myself, Jill. Most of the police department’s business is public record. Some things don’t ad up. Like recruiting the top graduate of her police academy class to be a game warden in Raccoon Village. You say you have a criminal past but it’s missing from the public records. An outreach program that got your criminal record purged and all charges dropped? That takes some skills. That or there’re some inconsistencies.”

She saw where he was going, “You think I’m _involved in this?” _

He blinked at her, almost confused. As if he’d expected her to say something different, “No. After we’re out of here maybe we need to look a little closer to home to make sense of everything, is all. Umbrella has a strong pull for all sorts of people to come to town here, and they have to hire people for this place from some pool. Let’s go.” And like a whirlwind he was stepping into the garden again. Jill pulled the shotgun off her back.

_Focus, Jill, focus your life depends on it. _Wesker suddenly throwing his knowledge about her into her face had knocked Jill off her pins. She was uncomfortable, weirded out with the way he’d approached that whole conversation. 

A high-pitched shriek made Jill jump. She had the shotgun on her shoulder, “What the—?”

“Reptiles!” Wesker shouted at her, “They’re hunters! They’re pack hunters!”

There was movement. Behind the hedge again. Jill and he rushed forward into the pool area. At least it was open enough to see. She watched one hulking being leap over the hedge, letting out another shriek and reaching out clawed hands. They were bipeds, powerful frog-like legs and hunched shoulders. It reminded her of a primate the way it dragged knuckles on the ground as it stalked toward her. Amber eyes reflected the moonlight, another low hiss. _A little closer, a little closer. _She had to get a shot.

It stalked toward her. She fired. Shotgun blast into its broad chest. Sweet gunpowder in her nose. Not enough. Of course it wasn’t. Despite having a chunk of its shoulder blown off and ribs exposed, the creature didn’t stop—it charged her. “Wesker! Run!” She shouted, sensing another moving along her side.

She fired again, hitting the head on the second shot. It crumpled. She pumped the shotgun. Another leapt at her. Jill wasn’t sure what she was thinking but she ducked and rolled. It landed where she had been standing. She was on her ass on the ground. Shotgun in her shoulder again. She fired. At least hitting this one’s chest seemed to make it double over in pain for a moment.

Jill scrambled to her feet. She was cornered. Wesker was running for the guest house, “Keep running!” She screamed, “Hey!” Her attention turned toward the creatures, waving her arm. Enough to get them to look at her and buy Wesker a few seconds. Jill dove through the hedge, branches slicing into her bare arms and face. She managed to stagger out the other side. A reptile leapt effortlessly over the hedge again.

It warbled at her. 

Jill raised her shotgun. _Too many. You’re cornered. _She noticed another structure that she hadn’t before. It was a pool house! Or a cabin! Further up the path, but a better option than the opposite way where the reptiles were blocking.

They were fast. Jill raised her gun, another shot. It collapsed onto the ground, screaming and grabbing its chest. She sensed movement behind her. No time to think. Jill sprinted, leaping over the downed creature and running down the path. Claws on stone behind her. Did she have another shot?

In her panic she’d lost count. Jill spun on her heels, pumped the shotgun, and pulled the trigger. It fired. _Thank you. _

Claws swiped inches from her, but the buckshot blowing out a chunk of the creature’s abdomen made it stumble. Blood splattered onto the cobblestone. She turned and ran again.

The door was labeled **SECURITY. **But in a split-second Jill again decided getting shot was a better option than shredded. She staggered into an office with chairs and several camera feeds. The screens in here still had power. It was a heavy door—hopefully they couldn’t get through it.

Blood was running from her bicep and lower arm—from the hedges. Scrapes—nothing urgent. _Shit! I still have the oxygen! _It was heavy on her back. _Hopefully Wesker made it to the guest house. _

There was a camera feed labeled: Residence Entrance_. _She saw it soon enough to watch Wesker re-set the broom handle against the door. He’d made it. The other cameras from the residence weren’t functioning. Someone had forgotten to unplug the one at the doorway.

There was a central desktop with a paused video. **GAME WARDEN INTERROGATION. Twilight Sedation Utilized. **

The date was several weeks prior. The night after which she and Chris woke up without recollection and she had the weird memories. Jill’s hands trembled as she saw with the paused screen her own hunched body over a silver table, the same blouse with the embroidered angel wings on the back that she’d worn out with Chris.

The recording started off with a voice over before the image came into focus. She was slumped on the table, Chris at her feet, curled around her chair.

_“Jillian Valentine. The man’s Christopher Redfield. He’s a warden.” _

_ “She’s a warden too. Neither of them know anything.” The man, Smith, was rubbing her back, “Can you wake up? What do you know about Umbrella?” _

_ “Nothing.” Jill heard herself say. Her voice was tried. She fell into a fit of giggles. _

_ “She’s pretty loopy from the drugs. She should be sleepier than he is, we dosed them the same and she’s smaller.” Someone nudged Chris with their foot. _It made Jill cringe as she watched. Her drugged self on the screen didn’t react.

_ “She’s having a weird reaction.” _

_ Jill was cackling on the screen. _It was so weird, hearing herself laughing like that, seeing herself laying, handcuffed. Acting like nothing was wrong even though some stranger was rubbing her back. She cringed watching herself.

_“What do you know?” He rubbed her back. _

_ “About what?” _

_ “About Umbrella. What are you doing in the basement? Why were you guys in the lab?” _

_ “What?” Jill watched them tip her back in the chair, so she didn’t fall on the floor. The man turned toward the camera, “Ow!” He pulled her elbow and made her catch her handcuffs. _

_ “Hey!” Chris groaned on the floor, “Be nice to her!” _

_ “Have you been recruited yet? Do you know what’s going on?” _

_ “What?” Jill squinted. _

_ “Jill?” Chris asked._

_ “Right here.” Jill told him. _

_ “She’s fine.” Someone bent down to lift his head off the floor, “Right there, see?” They were laughing, “Alive and kickin’.” _ _Chris’ hands were cuffed in front of him, and he was able to grab her ankle. _

_ A woman entered, speaking at the camera, “They’re drunk wardens. Called the station and confirmed. They’re off duty and haven’t been approached with any business ventures yet. Said let them go. Drop them off at his apartment—that’s where they said they’re staying. They won’t remember this. They’re not our targets. Look at her, she doesn’t even know what you’re asking her.” _

How she went from the interrogation room to Chris’ couch was still a complete black hole in her brain, as was any sort of lab. _Recruitment? What? _Did the company want them to get involved in this?

Jill watched_: a man in a medical coat come to her recorded herself. He rolled up her sleeve, swabbed her arm, and injected her with something, “What are you…doing to….her?” Chris demanded._ Jill desperately willed the image of herself to react. _Her reaction was ridiculously delayed when she cringed away, almost falling off the chair, but the man held onto her._

_ “You’re next, bud.” He left Jill on the chair and crouched beside Chris, tossing a capped syringe on the table. _

Umbrella was a pharmaceutical giant, after all. They had any drug she could think of—especially one to make idiots who’d been poking around the basement of the hospital weirdly agreeable and forget what they’d been up to. _ Jill’s form went limp into the table. They freed her hands. “That should do it. She’s out. He’s pretty out of it too.” They nudged Chris again and he didn’t move. _

_Smith scooped her out of the chair with one arm under her legs and another under her back, “Where? Jill? Hey?” Chris, apparently finding his consciousness, clung to her ankle for a moment as she was lifted, his words slurring, “Put her down!” _

_“You’re going too, lover boy. Relax.” Someone assured. _Jill shuddered. _She was limp, her head flopped back. Two others walked in and grabbed Chris. One lifted him under the arms and the other his legs. They all walked out the door and the tape ended. _There were multiple parts to their interrogation, other videos from that day, but she didn’t have the stomach to click on them. It was disturbing—seeing them both so vulnerable. At least Chris had tried to stand up for her. Jill owed him one for that. She heard the reptiles shrieking again outside. As she sat at the desk, her exhaustion had caught up and slammed her. Jill was so thirsty. The scratches in her arm stung. Her legs felt too tired to run.

She needed to catch her breath. Wesker and the others were safe in the bedroom they’d holed up in for the time being. Jill leaned back on the desk chair. _Were they trying to get you and Chris involved in this? Were they planning on it? _Everything was weird and foggy like she was in a dream.

The door beside her swung open. A back room which Jill hadn’t realized was there. How stupid she’d been. It might have cost her life. She jumped nearly out of the chair, scrambling to grab the shotgun, “Don’t move. Put your hands up, Valentine.” Enrico barked at her.

Jill was pretty sure she made an awful snorting gasp, but she did what she was told, staring at Enrico and his bloodied, wrapped upper leg.

\---

**Thanks for reading. Poor Jill can’t catch a break can she? **


	20. Chapter 20

**I love hearing from y’all. Remember! If you wanna chat HCs, flail about RE3 or tell me what I should do better just shoot me a message on tumblr: JKit45. Or, better yet, drop me a comment! Had some time today so figured I’d post the next one too. **

**Chapter 20: **

Jill’s jaw was trembling. She sank into the chair, trying her best not to let herself panic, “Enrico?” She managed to squeak.

He looked her up and down, “You involved in this? With Umbrella?” She supposed that was why the video of her and Chris’ ‘interrogation’ had been pulled up on the screen. He’d probably been picking through the systems and found it.

“No.” She answered, “No, of course not—”

“Because it’s pretty common knowledge that Umbrella pays for half the police station and I’ve already gotten shot once this evening by someone out in the yard in a warden vest.”

“What? Who?” Jill was stuttering like an idiot, holding her hands up. She didn’t know what to say. She was thirsty and her head hurt and Enrico was pointing a gun at her telling her he’d just been shot by one of their own.

“Don’t know. Didn’t get a look. Where’s your vest?” He panted. Bandages soaking through. _He needs Wesker. That’s a bad place to get shot. _There was a lot of blood

“I got rid of it! We were chased through the woods and I didn’t want to be easy to spot!” Jill cried, hands trembling, “Captain, Chris and I woke up the morning after this and we were freaked. We couldn’t figure out what happened to us. There’s a conspiracy and we don’t know—”

“The station’s dirty.” Enrico said again, grimacing, “Don’t trust anyone. Who’s left?” Pistol still at her forehead. Jill had no energy to fight. She leaned back in the chair, slumping. If this was it for her it was it. Jill was done. Maybe showing him how little fight she had left would be enough to tell him that none of this mess had been her nefarious plans.

“Me. Rebecca. Richard’s injured and barley hanging on. Wesker made it to the residence house to bring supplies to him. I got cornered in here by the reptile things.” She licked her lips, “Chris is alive. Barry maybe, we don’t know. Joseph is dead.” Jill managed, “Sully is dead too. And others, Rebecca said.” She was babbling and not sure she cared, “Who shot you? Was it an accident?”

“No. Someone chased me. I lost him in the orchard. Couldn’t see who.” It was Enrico, their Captain, and seeing him shaking and injured like this made Jill uncomfortable. Normally dark tanned skin had turned ashen, his hands shook. She wished she had more than the oxygen tank to offer him but all of the rest of their first aid stuff had gone with Wesker.

“You’re hurt.” Jill croaked, “I’m tired, Captain. I’m tired and I’m sore and I’m cold and a lot of people are dead and if you think I’m in on it and want to shoot me…well…” Where was she going with this? Jill turned her head to the side and wasn’t sure if the noise she made was an exhausted laugh or a sob, biting back tears. Sully’s body fresh in her mind. The fact that she hadn’t made it back to ‘see Chris soon’ yet didn’t help her mentality, “You might as well because I’m not going to stop you but I hope you don’t because I want to go home. But I guess that’s better than ending up like some of them.” She looked at him. He lowered his gun, sniffled and collapsed into the chair opposite her with a wince.

Jill pushed herself up, “You’re hurt. Can I help you?”

Enrico shook his head, “Is there an extraction plan?”

“We got dropped off and there’s no radio contact.”

The man let out a defeated sigh, “It’ll be okay.” He said, “Most of the landlines and radios have been cut around the property. We need backup. If there’s a mole in the wardens they might be making sure we don’t get out of here—”

“Seems like that would screw them too.” Jill shook her head.

“You realize what they’re doing, Jill?” Enrico cut her off, “They’re experimenting with biological weapons out here. That’s probably why people go missing in this park. They have an extensive security network where, according to what we’ve found, they are under orders to make sure nobody gets close to this place.”

“There’s no way they could keep this secret.” Jill was shaking her head, “Maybe it was a mistake. They let out a virus they were researching. There are files talking about biological weapons but that’s a violation of international law…” She sighed.

“Umbrella is an international juggernaut.” Enrico hissed in pain through his teeth, “and of course it’s illegal! Hell, our government is probably buying this shit off them! They will do anything to keep this under wraps. If they don’t want this to get out, it won’t.”

“Not if I can help it.” She said, “I’ll fly to the next UN meeting if I have to.” Wherever that was, “This is ridiculous.” Jill was too tired to care. _Get me a fuckin’ plane ticket, bitch. Try me, Umbrella. _

Enrico snorted, “Damn straight, Valentine, we’re gonna get this out. And we’re gonna clean house at R.P.D. Umbrella Corporation is our main sponsor. This is beginning of a shit storm.” He shook his head, looking down. He opened his mouth to say something again. But he went silent, putting his finger to his lips. Jill looked around. There was a breakroom in the cabin which Enrico emerged from, a little cabinet with a coffee machine on the counter and several couches. A refrigerator in the corner.

He stood on one leg, “Shh!” He said.

_“What?”_ Jill whispered frantically.

_“Be quiet!” _Forceful enough that it shut her up. She heard footsteps outside. Someone jiggled the back door of the cabin to the breakroom, it was apparently locked, _“Jill listen to me. You’re going to make it out of here.” _

_ “What?” _He had her by the arms, shoving her through the door. Her voice was gone, heart hammering in her ears. A brief moment of pause before he opened the cabinet below the coffee machine. A water cooler sang to her in the corner.

_“Go to the UN. But right now, shut up. Don’t move.”_

_“Captain!?” _

_“You’re going to live, Valentine. You have to get to the UN. Anybody.”_ His voice so desperate it scared her. He gripped the sides of her face and then her by the back of her neck. He stuffed her down to the floor, cramming her into the cabinet and reaching for the door. He slammed it once on her leg, and then grabbed her by the calf and shoved her to fit in the confined space by roughly forcing her knee against her chest. Maybe it was instinct, or the pure shock of what just happened as _Captain Marini shoved you into a cabinet. _But she was silent, struggling to draw a breath.

Jill blinked, her head was crammed against the base of a drawer above her head. The oxygen tank’s top biting her in the shoulder.

The heavy door to the office swung open—she heard the hinges squeak. _Who is that? Who is that? _ “Bur—” Two gunshots, loud. High caliber. The sound of something hitting the floor. Jill swallowed. Her stomach churned violently. _Do not get sick. Do not make a noise you are dead. _

She held her breath, staring at the darkness, toes wedged against the edge of the cabinet, “Jill?!” Someone shouted. It was Barry’s voice.

_Are you kidding me? How could you possibly think I’m that dumb? _She was angry. Angry and disgusted and silent.

“Jill? Are you still in here? Come quick! Someone shot Captain Enrico!” He shouted, footsteps pounded through the doorway to the breakroom, “Valentine? There’re more of those lizard things. We need to get out of here?!”

_Not on your life, asshole! _

He was calling, “You didn’t run out back, did you?” The sound of him unlocking the back door and charging out, “Can’t find her.” He said distantly, “Hunters probably got her.” It sounded like another voice crackled on a radio.

_How the hell do you have a radio that works? What is going on? _

Jill didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. Enrico had just been shot. Shot by Barry. Her brain felt like it shorted out. Silent tears poured down her face. In that moment she decided she was content to spend the rest of her life in this cabinet, neck cramping against the drawer above her head.

Jill was so tired and thirsty she wasn’t sure she_ could_ move. This cabinet was cozy. And she was going to stay in it. And catch her breath.

How long had she been in here? It was so tight she couldn’t move her arms without pushing the door open. Jill wasn’t ready to brave the outside world. It was warm. She was sweating. Which was probably bad because she was so thirsty.

_There’s a water cooler. Chris and Wesker and Rebecca and Richard are in danger. _The more logical part of her told her, but she felt like she was physically stuck. Getting out of this position and dragging herself out of the cabinet was overwhelming.

_Enrico got shot. Barry shot Enrico. _

Jill swallowed.

_Umbrella owns the police department. _

_ Get to the UN. Shut up. Don’t move. _

But she had to move.

But she was also cozy with her neck cramping in her cabinet and so thirsty and so tired and Enrico just got _executed _by Barry. Another set of footsteps, lighter this time, coming around the outside of the cabin. Jill covered her mouth to bite back a whimper.

The door slammed open and closed. The sound of the computer chair squeaking, _“Fucker.” _A familiar voice. Jill stayed silent. Hell no was she going to risk startling Zahara by popping out of a cabinet at her. Footsteps.

The door to the cabinet swung open. Jill squeaked, relative light of the security office felt blinding, “Oh, look at you poor mess.” Zahara stated, “Get out of there.” She had her by the arm and dragged out to the floor in a second. Jill looked to her left and saw Enrico on the floor. He’d been shot in the head. He didn’t have a head anymore, “You’ll be deader than he is. Hear you breathing from the other room and I’m not the only thing out here.” Maybe she’d been louder than she thought.

That’s was it, she couldn’t hold her nausea any longer. Jill groaned and flopped herself toward the trash can that was beside the counter she’d been underneath. She heaved and heaved. Zahara’s shadow was over her.

She puked stomach acid as she hadn’t eaten in hours, it burned her throat and nose. An awkward pat on her back, “You okay?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s good.” Zahara grabbed her by the biceps. She was strong, hauling Jill to her feet, “Sit.”

“Water.” Jill said, “I’m fine. I’ll stand.” Zahara set her on the couch anyway, turning her back on her to fill a paper cup from the cooler and then stuffed it into Jill’s hand. She slumped herself on the worn leather chair which faced the couch.

Jill wasn’t the only one who’d had a night, but Zahara was wearing it better than she. Her jacket was gone. Only a stained baby pink tank top and a sport bra, her toned dark-skinned arms folded in her lap, gun still strapped to her leg. Her hair had been re-tied up with what looked like part of a phone charger. Jill pushed up on wobbling legs, working movement back into her neck, and got herself more water.

The cold liquid felt like it activated every cell in her body, giving her another boost of energy. Enough to listen to Zahara compliment her: “You look like shit.”

“Nice shirt.” Jill said in response.

Zahara looked down at her grease and blood stained top and laughed. Jill snorted, getting up to fill her water cup again, “I need your help.” Zahara stated, “The lab has been emergency locked. I need a second set of hands to open the access.”

“Only if you tell me who you actually are.” Jill stated. She wasn’t in a position to negotiate, but this was all getting too weird, “Will you kill me as soon as it open? I’m a cop. You’re looking for Umbrella’s data.”

“I don’t really care what you do. I was like you once. All idealistic. Worried about the things my step-father’s company did and how it fit into my moral code. Now I just want to stay alive.” 

“That doesn’t answer the question.” Jill stated, “you’re after the data. Which means this will continue. You’re involved.”

“This will continue regardless. By association, mostly.” Zahara shrugged her shoulders. She seemed good natured enough, but Jill didn’t want to push her.

_Over my dead body you’ll get the data. _But she had to be careful thinking that now because, well, Zahara could probably make that happen.

“Those reptiles are outside. So are my people. In the residence.”

“I have a feeling your people aren’t in the residence anymore if I know the way these people work.” Zahara made a broad motion with her arm.

“What does that mean?” Jill was suddenly worried. _Oh, Chris. Oh, crap. _

“I’ll keep you safe if you help me swipe the second key card into the lab.”

_Feel safer already. _Jill didn’t verbalize that sarcasm though, “You have a pistol and big balls but what is you plan, exactly—”

“It’s kept me alive this long, mostly due to no fault of my own. I’m not worried. Besides, I have a vagina and you might too if you find it. Those things are tougher than balls.” Zahara stated, “Are you coming? I’m a good option.” 

_Wow. Okay. _Jill admired it. “Let me get my shotgun.” _Enough lying around. Fuck the data, she can keep it. Find and Chris and the others before Barry does and get the hell out of here. _

\--

Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment 😉


	21. Chapter 21

** I tried not to get too wild on the explanations on this one but both Biotechnology and Science Fiction are my two favorites and I had to nerd out a little. **

**My main struggle was trying not to turn it into a science textbook and I’ve done a lot of editing the past few days. **

**Enjoy, lovelies. **

**Chapter 21: **

Jill had expected to go outside but Zahara was on the floor on her hands and knees, “There should be a hatch in the floor somewhere.” 

She looked at her, “What?” She made a point to stay focused on where Zahara placed her hands rather than glance at Enrico.

“There’re tunnels under the complex.” Zahara found it, shouldering the couch aside and grabbing a small brass ring on the floor. She tossed the hatch aside. Jill raised her eyebrows at the amount of noise, glancing around.

“You’re familiar with this place?”

“Not terribly.” Zahara answered her. She swung her legs over the hatch and dropped down. Jill opted for the ladder. It was dark, with wet, stone walls. Zahara started forward in the claustrophobic tunnels. Dim floodlights strung along the ceiling, making the uneven walls look jagged and shadowy. Jill felt like she couldn’t stand upright as it was, Zahara, taller than her, walked hunched.

“Great.” Jill answered, “Do you know where you’re walking?”

“Yes.” Zahara said, “To the residence. Would you rather go outside?” Jill didn’t like being in this confined space. She looked over her shoulder, brushing her arms on the wall.

“Suppose this is better if no creatures find their way in.” _Please don’t let there be anything in here. _They crossed a fork in the path, Zahara led them to the left. Jill swallowed, looking down the opposite dark tunnel, “I’ll walk backwards.”

“It’s clear.” Zahara said.

Jill walked backward anyway, shaking her head. Their breaths echoed down the tunnel before them. They continued along, toward a ladder illuminated by a cluster of the floodlights. Jill had her head on a swivel, certain of the fact she hated these tunnels. They emerged through the floor in the residence. The mudroom with the broom handle against the wall.

Heavy rushing feet in the hallway, the distinct warbling the creatures made between each other. “Hunters.” Zahara said. She grabbed the broom handle and broke it over her knee, coming up with one half that was sharp enough to be used as a weapon. Zahara let the other half fall to the floor. Jill decided to use her actual shotgun, holding it against her shoulder. The creatures were in the house. _Fuck. Chris. Be okay. _That was exactly the outcome she wasn’t hoping for—the pack of them somehow made it inside.

Zahara yanked the door open, drawing her pistol and firing twice. Enough to stun the first creature, she launched herself forward, drove the broom handle through its head and yanked it out with a howl—sending a spray of blood across the wall. _Stupid brave! _Jill thought. She flipped the handle in her hand like nothing, using it like a baseball bat to crack into the skull of a one of the human viral victims. Body clattered to the floor. Jill took on the next ‘hunter’, firing her shotgun. She’d landed a headshot and it crumpled. Zahara stepped over it, “Where were your people?” 

Jill blinked at her. _Strong, she’s fucking strong. And fucking fast. _Zahara’s chest heaved with her exertion, she let the broken handle clatter to the floor and flicked lizard brains from her hand.

“Past the living room.” Jill pointed. Since she’d been gone the couch was overturned, table knocked aside. _Hunters, maybe. _No fresh blood, thankfully. She marched to the end of the hall, Zahara following her. Jill grabbed the door knob, “It’s me!” She shouted. No answer. Shouldered her way through. Breath in her throat, despite everything she’d seen this evening it was something she’d never get used to.

There was a form on the bed. His head had been covered by the sheets. Jill pressed her lips together and walked forward. Zahara stood watch in the doorway.

She pulled back the sheets to see it was Richard. His eyes were closed. Skin turned white as paste. He was cold when she touched him. Jill covered his head again, pressing her palm to her face, willing herself to take a breath. Zahara’s eyes were on her. Waiting. They’d put the IV into his arm, the saline bag sat uselessly on the bed at his side. Wesker had made it back and tried.

“Where would the others go?” Jill rasped. No fresh blood in the room, other than the soiled towels from Richard’s injuries.

“Maybe down in the lab.” She stated, “If they figured out how to open it.”

Jill had no better ideas, “Where is it?”

“We can access it from the back of the residence. The main entrance would have been sealed if there was a breech.” Zahara told Jill as if it meant something to her. She nodded along dumbly.

“You said you needed key cards. Do you have them?” Jill asked her. Zahara glanced sideways.

“Uh.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Circle talk was getting old. 

“One.” Zahara held it between her thumb and forefinger, yanking away when Jill reached out for it, “Hey. We’ll find you another one.”

“Just let me see the damn thing.” Jill stated. Zahara, still holding it, stuffed it into her face. Jill was irritated.

“And if any body has a wrist band on it.” Zahara showed her something that looked like a smart watch she was wearing, “You’ll want to grab that.”

Jill set her teeth, “You seem to know what you’re looking for.”

“Well, obviously if you want help you just have to ask.” She did the strange thing where she cocked her head sideways. Jill stared at her, “What?”

“Do you want my help or not?” Jill hissed at her, “Because I don’t know how good of an idea this lab thing is.”

Zahara changed her tune, the first time Jill had seen her looking startled: probably because she needed Jill in this moment to get the damn door open for her, “I bet they’re down there. If they’re not here they’re down there. I’d bet—especially if they’re cops like you.” She stalked down the hallway.

“You know, you are very confident in that information.” Jill told her, “And I’m not sure why I’m bothering.” She did know why: she wanted to find Chris. And if Jill knew Chris he was going to find a way into the bottom of this place just as she was. They needed evidence. They needed to see the full extent of what was happening here if there was anything to take to the UN on the other side of this. If their story was going to be worth shit, especially with how outlandish the night already turned out, she needed as much knowledge and evidence about what was happening out here as she could possibly find.

The first body her new companion turned over still had the staff ID card attached to her breast pocket. Zahara tossed it at Jill. The wrist band was a little harder, eventually they came upon one connected to a man who’d died in one of the bedrooms. Zahara, as pleased with herself as Jill had ever seen her, directed Jill to what she’d thought was a simple office before. There were two black metallic card readers on the wall.

It took them a few tries to properly swipe the cards in unison, but when they did, the mechanics in the little readers made a pleasant chirp. A kind, electronic woman’s voice sang, _“Emergency protocols in place. Follow emergency entry procedures!” _ The floor vibrated and what Jill had assumed was a coffee table folded backwards into the wall, revealing a staircase into the floor.

Zahara went first, Jill behind her. She swallowed a lump in her throat. There were definitely muddy boot prints down the white tiled stairs. Who they’d come from was another mystery. Jill followed Zahara. _You’re following a total weirdo who’s stalked around town for the last few months into a basement lab at a biological weapons facility. Good choice, Jill. Great work. _She considered pausing on the stairs and turning around. But the hatch swung closed above their heads.

“What the hell?” Jill hissed.

Zahara looked mildly unnerved, “I figure there’s another way out.”

“_You’re here looking for data and you don’t know?” _Zahara looked at her strangely, “You dropped your letter, Bryer.”

“I kind of…plan it as I go.”

_You do what now? When you’re breaking in to weapons facilities? _She fiddled with her pistol. Holding it the wrong way to open the slide where she was probably going to pinch herself more than accomplish anything. _Jesus Christ, who is this? How does she not know how to use a gun? She has to have ridiculous physical training! _“You don’t know how to get out of this place?”

She made a raspberry with her lips, “Got out before.” Jill slowed her pace, letting Zahara put distance between them.

The first room was another security office with a dog kennel, off to the side of the landing. At least a dozen dog runs. One animal lay dead, tumor ridden. The rest of the cages had been opened. **BOTTLED WATER FOR CANINES ONLY! **An email left up on the computer stated that the dogs were beginning to show signs of discomfort—clawing at themselves. Jill shivered. _Poor things. _Zahara was already gone ahead of her and Jill was perfectly fine with putting some distance between them. **GUARD DOGS LOOSE IN YARD FROM DUSK UNTIL DAWN! **

Down a few more sets of stairs. Five stories down, at least. The stairwell funneled into a small locker room. **SHOWER. **Zahara went straight through.

_Jill, you are the biggest idiot on the face of this planet. Who is this? _Nothing made sense. And Jill had to stop staring at her. Or maybe Zahara was the idiot. Maybe she was just one of those stupidly brave people that had no idea about her own mortality and knew how to get into the lab because her father or step father or whoever the hell that dude who’d been in the photos worked out here.

A douse of lukewarm water. Jill shivered. Filthy boots left puddles of grime on the tile floor. _Towels, anywhere?_ Soaked through again and so dirty it hadn’t made much of a difference. Out of the shower. A heated room and a sudden rough blast of hot air that felt like one of the supped up variety of hand driers was aimed at her entire body. Hair dripped mud down her neck. Jill stood for a minute, at least it somewhat dried her clothes. Zahara was long gone from this dryer room.

Past the room was another set of lockers, filled with fresh scrubs. They hung on the hangers wrapped in paper. Several changing stalls with the doors open.

**CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENT BEYOND THIS POINT. **The band on her wrist vibrated and the electronic door swung open, _“Welcome Dr. Des!” _The same electronic woman sang. Apparently that was who she stole the wristband from.

It was an open space, one that made Jill nervous this time. Dozens of glass-walled labs. The doors popped open automatically as she passed, her wristband vibrated. Her shotgun was down to the last shell, so she slung it over her back, dropping the oxygen tank on the floor in the interest of saving her tired shoulders. Jill kept her hand by her holstered pistol. Zahara was gone, but Jill figured Zahara wasn’t going to cause her any harm so long as she didn’t get in the way.

When the fourth glass door popped open as she passed, Jill decided to hazard stepping into one of the labs. It was tamer than her brain worked it out to be as she’d been imagining a biological weapons center. Regular black counter-topped lab benches. There were pipettes and glassware sitting on drying racks from being cleaned. Gleaming silver boxes that Jill knew were sterilizers for medical instruments. 

Jill went out of the backdoor of this lab and into the next. Something caught her eyes through the window to her left—cages. There were lab animals. Rabbits.

They were in crates like one could get at a pet store. Fluffy bedding and the water bottle attached to the bars. They were dead, she didn’t know what else she’d been expecting. Little clumps of white fur which made Jill frown. One of them noticeably bloodied and tumor ridden. A body of a man on the floor. The same story as always. It looked like this person had been shot in the head. There was a pen-marked rough draft of a write up of something on the counter. Jill grabbed it.

She skimmed through the scientific jargon, but it was simple enough to understand.

**For those who aren’t familiar: T-Virus is a biological agent which has been developed by the company. It was originally discovered as a viral agent in a specific, endangered plant species on the West African coast. This species, known as Progenitor Flower, has proven to be something of a natural reservoir to the virus. Although the exact mechanism of the symbiosis between the flower and Progenitor Virus are unknown, it seems to act as a bacteriophage (virus which kills bacteria) toward species of bacteria which commonly cause disease in plants in that region. **

** When Progenitor Flowers are transplanted, they almost immediately die. Viral samples quickly die when removed from the host organism. **

**Interest of using Progenitor Virus: **

** Founders of the corporation found that local people had been known in years past to consume Progenitor Flower raw. Traditional medicines dictated that the flower aided in curing injuries ranging from lacerations to broken bones. Oftentimes it was used as a last resource of traditional medicine, as the flower is highly toxic to humans and not consumed or farmed in modern times due to the potent neurotoxin it contains. Corporation founders wanted to find the exact biochemistry of these strange assertions. **

** Originally studied in Arklay, Progenitor Virus became a highly controlled retroviral agent within the corporation’s lab due to the discovery it could infect most mammalian species. When infected by the Progenitor Virus, most animal models fought off the infection. Others developed cancer from aggressive, uncontrolled stimulation of infected cells to reproduce, causing the extreme mutations sometimes observed. This “extreme regeneration” of body cells is fast, usually fatal within days and infects any tissue type in the body. **

** Immediately, potential was seen as both a medical breakthrough and a biological weapon due to the immense and varying impact it has on the DNA. Refining the virus in the lab, and selectively growing carcinogenic strains, a retrovirus known as TYRANT was developed. The name ‘Tyrant’ (typically shortened to T) comes from the post-mortem brain activity which causes vectors (the infected) to exhibit extreme aggression—often biting. As a retrovirus, T enters the DNA of its host organism to reproduce. **

**T Virus: **

** Although the exposed mortality rate is over ninety-percent (90%), and projected to be higher from data of various accidental exposures, the T has become the basis of most of the company’s genetic technology due to various useful applications.**

**T contains biological equipment within its capsule which allow for the editing of DNA—similar to CRISPR technologies (imagine DNA scissors that can cut a gene out and splice a new one in). This is very useful in gene editing—the corporation will likely benefit from public human trials on cancer and genetic condition cures. Preliminary human testing in classified settings has shown low success so far. However, it excels as a method of creating weaponized organisms by allowing us to bind DNA from various species. It has also allowed us to add the T-Neurotoxin to our B.O.W. lines by inserting the gene isolated from the Progenitor Flower into embryos. **

** One human study case which was expunged from Arklay’s records several years ago is particularly fascinating, and something some facets of the company, myself included, want to understand better: **

** T-122 Was the first human success. A 26 y.o. female who sustained severe car accident injuries. Rushed to the Arklay Facility for corporation doctors to work on her utilizing our cutting edge technologies, T was administered while patient was flatlined after five minutes and twenty-three seconds (5:23) of unsuccessful CPR. **

** Her body showed remarkable healing, witnesses present in the room claim even broken bones healed nearly instantaneous. She regained consciousness and lucidity. It was a matter of her DNA being a match to form the correct symbiotic relationship to T. I have not yet gained access to the DNA sequence run on subject T-122, although subject resembled humans, she genetically changed due to T inserting itself into her genome. **

** A new species was accidently created with the disastrous possibility of re-integrating herself with the surface world and causing consequences by interacting with the human race as well as the possibility of exposing the necessary research taking place. **

** Due to the subject’s human qualities, lucidity, and maintaining most of previous personality, security measures were taken and the only option was humane euthanasia of the subject. Body was recorded as being destroyed. **

_Human experiments. Euthanasia. Umbrella engineered a fucking zombie virus? What the actual hell? Car accident in Arklay? _Jill backed off the bench, head spinning. _Focus. Find Chris. Get out. _She took the thick, red-pen edited packet and stuffed it folded into her pocket with other one. Could that be evidence? Maybe. Jill didn’t care.

The author of the write up was called Edward Dovan. Jill made a mental note of it.

_You need to get out of here. They experimented on humans. Car accident. Arklay. Five years ago. _

Jill’s brain skipped for a moment: _no way. _Better things to think about anyway. She pushed herself away from the rabbit cage. _All this science fiction bullshit. Think, Jill, think. _She was standing in a sea of glass walled labs. She needed to get back to the main hallway. Maybe lower into the facility.

She made her way back. The little electronic noise of each lab opening for her begun to grate on her nerves. Eventually she was on the main hallway again, passing emergency showers and lab-bench filled rooms. Various safety signs hanging on the wall proclaiming great advice like: **DO NOT DRINK OR USE FACILITY WATER! **Too late for that, Jill rolled her eyes.

A strip of offices, the doors were mostly closed and locked. One of them had a name she recognized: Edward Dovan. _Well, let’s see. _She decided, and the door gave way under her hands. It was empty, thankfully. His desk had the computer powered off. Jill managed to rip open the drawer as it had been locked but the dry-rotten wood gave way.

**Dovan. Know that you’re looking into the 122 incident. Found this in the family’s old photos at another facility. They haven’t gotten rid of everything as much as they’d like to. Familiar faces, huh? Maybe ask the good ER Doctor when he comes here next time he works a shift down with us. **

Jill swallowed heavily. There was a photograph, printed and laminated. It was a very familiar man and woman. Wesker. He grinned, wearing a tuxedo, a woman clinging to his arm.

_Wesker dates? _

For some reason that was the best her mind could come up with. Because the main issue was that Wesker was in a goddamn photo in a basement Umbrella lab. The secondary-yet-still-pressing issue was that the woman on his arm was Zahara. A more natural version of the two of them than Jill could even imagine. They seemed happy—comfortable. The shot was candid. Her curly hair with a floor-length gown that had an open back down to the dimples above her pelvis, his blonde hair slicked like he always wore it. He was grinning. Their noses were touching.

_Well…that’s awkward. _

Then her brain caught up some more. It was like she couldn’t fathom it. She read the written note over and over.

_Wesker works here? What did they do to Zahara? _The fact Wesker was fucking in on this too suddenly felt like another gut punch. Just trying to imagine those two personalities _dating _each other was just too weird to entertain so Jill had to stop trying and let the full disgust of everything keep compounding.

Jill dropped the note back into the drawer, deciding to stuff the photo into her back pocket. _Whatever evidence you can grab. _

Voices from down the hall, “You said Valentine was dead, Burton! Cameras showed her stalking around this level. Split up and find her!” Wesker boomed. Angry, assertive. So unlike any voice she’d ever heard from him.

_\--_

** _Listen, Wesker can’t be the only Umbrella villain. But no, OCs will not overshadow anyone in this. Hope y’all enjoyed._ **


	22. Chapter 22

Thanks guys. Sorry for the delay on this one. Luckily i kind of split it in two parts with chapter 23 so the second half should be here in a day or so :) **Chapter 22: **

Jill weighed her options. None of them were good. _Cameras. Fucking cameras. _

She could try to sneak out, but this entire floor was a glass window. It wasn’t hard to spot movement. Since she’d heard their voices, they were probably close.

_Fucking hell. _She was running out of time.

_Think, Jill, think_. She had six bullets left in her pistol. She could fight. She’d been in a firefight before when a drug bust went south in the city. But it wasn’t something she was particularly confident in, especially not since it involved shooting at Barry and Wesker.

That was a bad choice. Another option: hide again, maybe. But there was nowhere. They had access to security cameras.

Jill dug through the desk drawers, finding white printer paper and nothing much else of use. 

_“All it takes is fifteen seconds.” A memory of her father, sitting with her when she was young, letting her sweat with a pair of bobby pins over picking the padlock he’d handed her. Long before he was sitting permanently in a prison upstate, “Fifteen seconds of insane courage and you can change the world, Jilly-Bean.” She’d looked at him, “Violence usually isn’t the answer. Not when you have half a brain. Look at me.” He motioned to himself, “I’m not a big guy. I’d lose most fights if it wasn’t for what was up here.” Richard tapped his head. _

_ “Fifteen seconds.” She’d echoed. _

_ “That’s it! All it takes!” He answered, reaching for the lock. She’d always been independent. Jill wanted to solve this issue herself and pulled it away. _

_ “No. I almost have it.” _

Jill looked at her gun, and then looked at the white paper.

She was only certain of one thing in this situation: she wanted to survive to see another sunrise. _Fifteen seconds, Jill. Fifteen seconds. _

Jill decided she was certain of a second thing: she wasn’t Chris. He might have been the silver tongue, the man who was friends with anyone in town and could strike a conversation with a stranger about anything, but she was Jill. She had a poker face. At least she liked to think she did.

_Courage, Jill. Do it for Chris. _

Jill grabbed the paper. It was going to have to do. She stuck her arm out the door, “HEY!” She called, waving the paper, “I’m here! I surrender!” _White flag, come on! _“WESKER!” She yelled out the cracked door.

Heart it her throat, no response, “Barry! Wesker! I want in!” She yelled through the door, flopping the paper.

It seemed like they got the idea: “JILL!” Barry’s gruff reply, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be coy!” She yelled back, “I’m surrendering! I don’t want to die! I’ll join the company!” Head leaned against the cracked door. Was that even an offer on the table? Probably not, but surely Chris hadn’t taken them up on it if it was pitched to him. Jill, on the other hand, was more than happy to bruise her pride if it meant saving her skin.

“Come out. Hands up.” Wesker sounded far more collected than Barry.

“Okay.” Jill said, “I’m opening the door. She dropped the paper to put her hands through first, holding them up by her ears as she sidestepped out the cracked door, mostly expecting to get shot.

Barry had the stupid, high caliber magnum pointed at her. It gleamed under the florescent light, “Turn around.” As she pivoted on her heels, she faced Wesker, leaning against the wall to watch her with a smug little smile, “Get on your knees.” Jill dropped to one knee, and then her next, “Now hands on the ground, lie flat.”

More ego bruising. Jill’s heart pounded. The tile was cold and she was still damp from the shower room. She put her hands on the floor and pressed herself down. Barry’s knee hard on her back, twisting her hands behind her and tightening thick zip-ties. He kept kneeling on her. She grit her teeth as he patted her down. Her pistol handed to Wesker, then her knife and the shotgun. Him reaching awkwardly into her pockets to take out the matted pieces of paper she’d grabbed. 

Barry hauled her to her feet by her belt and a fistful of her shirt, her hair stuck to her face, “What are you saying about in on it?” He asked her.

“I don’t know. Sounds like there’s something going on between the wardens and the company.” Wesker grabbed her face. She pulled back form him.

“You don’t really seem like the type. But like-father, like-daughter, I suppose.”

“Excuse me?” Jill forced herself to breathe, to stay rational. She had to think if she was going to get out of this mess.

“Richard Valentine. He used to make money selling corporate data. Umbrella hired him more than once. We were one of his best payers, I believe.” Wesker told her. Jill blinked, “Didn’t know that? Hate to be the one to break the news.”

“My father was involved in this?” She tried to keep her tone even, not to show the anger of the accusation. 

Wesker shrugged, “Course he was. He took the paycheck. He was good at his job—didn’t ask questions. Was able to recover data from projects competitor labs worldwide were working on. He did the company proud.”

“I’m not sure you’re the one to throw stones about criminal ventures.” _Stay calm_, “They say Umbrella has security. If you’re going to kill me anyway, why not use me for that? Why not tell me what’s happening down here?” Jill pressed.

Wesker and Barry exchanged a glance, “She’s Richard’s daughter.” Barry was trembling as he held her, “Maybe she’s worth saving around.”

“She’d need a full psych eval. Unless she’s had a complete breakdown tonight, I have a feeling she’s frankly full of shit. Aren’t you, Ms. Valentine?”

Okay. Maybe she didn’t deserve any Oscars or medals for her poker face anytime soon, “Is this the part where you kill me, Dr. Wesker? Where’re Chris and Rebecca?”

“Taken care of. You’ll join them soon.”

“Are they alive?” Maybe she showed her unease there, she felt her mouth twitch.

“What does it matter?” Wesker smirked at her, “You wanted to join, don’t you?”

Barry marched her along, following Wesker as they stopped at an elevator. He swiped a keycard. The wristband Jill had buzzed against her flesh. _Guess Barry missed that. _She stood with them, looked in the damn steel box, doing her best not to get flustered. They went two floors down. She watched the way he swiped his own wristband which allowed him to press the button. The doors opened with a chime. This was immediately a more secured level. They passed beneath a set of cameras and through turnstiles that still worked. It was an awkward dance of Wesker and Barry trying to shove her though. Jill did her best to get hung up twice.

**WELCOME TO UMBRELLA ARKLAY FACILITY **

** PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY **

There were no longer open glass labs. Each door was a heavy steel barrier. One which was propped open. **DEMONSTRATION ROOM A. **The massive one-way window looked down upon a surgical suite below. The metal table with the green foam padding and the respiratory equipment to the side. Heavy nylon restraints folded on the surface. _If I get strapped to a table I will fucking lose my mind._ Jill swallowed, looking down, “Umbrella uses human subjects?” The question was rhetorical, “Is that why so many people disappear in Arklay?”

“People disappear all over the world, Ms. Valentine.” 

“So Umbrella takes people world-wide, then?” She pressed.

“Think of it as…” Wesker stepped forward, affectionately flicking her cheek. Jill pulled her head away, “Serving a better purpose. Think of the advantages of medical science which most bureaucracy stops. I thought you wanted in? Cat got your tongue?”

“I think you’ve lost it.” Jill stated.

“Pity. Because I think you’ll be a good addition anyway. There’s a nice reprogramming project ongoing. Maybe you’d like to participate. Chris and Rebecca are already waiting on their turns for that.”

“Suck my dick.” Barry tossed her ass into the desk chair. Jill tried not to let her knees and jaw tremble. _This is not the best plan you’ve ever had. _There were scissors on the desk. He’d used zip ties on her hands. _Chris and Rebecca are waiting. They might be alive. If there’re using human subjects, there’s probably somewhere in this facility that they’re keeping them. _

_ Okay. Hostage survival. _She was an anxious, sweaty wreck. But Jill had training. She had to get herself together. _Movement. Move so they’re used to you moving. _She swung herself back and forth on the rolling chair, twisting the seat back and forth. It looked like she was showing nerves, and they didn’t seem to realize she was getting her back toward the desk, “You said I was brought to Raccoon for a reason. I’m guessing this was it? Offering me a job here.”

“You were.” Wesker laughed, shaking his head as if he was stressed by the night as well, “But it was supposed to be presented better. It’s hard to see the vision properly when you’re thrown in like this.” He told her. She had her back to the desk now. The chair was too low to reach the pencil cup with the scissors. _One step at a time. _

“Right. Because I’m sure this is very palatable with the proper training videos.” Jill glanced at Barry. He stood in front of the door, looking firmly at the floor. He was a sweating mess too. Dark stains under his armpits and face shining under the light with droplets. She begun to lightly bang the back of her chair against the surface of the desk. There was a projector sitting out as well, “Preparing for movie night?”

“Believe it or not, there are quite a few investors who see the potential. And buyers.” Wesker smiled at her, “As well as those who like to add intrigue and protection to their private collections. The possibilities are rather endless.”

Jill snorted, “You sell these things to random people?”

“’Course not. Those who prove they have the income and private security to appropriately handle such technology.”

_ Even better. _She wasn’t sure she had much else to say to that, other than keep looking fidgety and hit the desk a little harder. Finally, she managed to knock the pencil cup and some papers off, “Sit still.” Wesker told her, rolling her chair to the side so he could pick through the desk drawers.

“Think they’ll be here soon?” Barry asked.

“Soon. Yes. We have to clear as much of this data as we can.” Wesker answered.

_Jokes on you. _Jill thought, as he’d rolled her right on top of the spilled items from the cup. _Come on, get distracted. _Barry was looking down, positioned in front of the door. Wesker kept glancing at her but begun to get engrossed in whatever he was trying to do from the computer. He swore under his breath.

Harsh pounding on the door. She jumped more than she meant to, “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!” Zahara’s voice, she was screaming, “YOU SLIMY FUCKER!”

_Oh boy. _Jill was not sure she wanted to be in the middle of whatever she was yelling about, especially if she was Wesker’s girlfriend. Barry and Wesker exchanged concerned glances, “Shoot her.” Wesker told Barry, “Through the door.”

“It’s steel!” Barry protested. The sound of something being rammed against the door.

“Fuck.” Wesker hissed, “I’ll handle her.” He cocked his pistol, “Open the door.”

“HE’S GOT A GUN!” Jill screamed. She crumpled herself onto the floor, faking a slip on the spilled pencils.

“LET ME IN, YOU FUCK!” Zahara didn’t seem phased. She shouldered the door, hard, as she’d done to Chris. Hard enough to throw Barry off balance. She stood in the doorway, chest heaving with exertion, “Albert. A word?”

She didn’t get a word. He fired. She screamed. Jill grabbed the scissors and begun desperately trying to cut through the ties holding her wrists.

_Oh fuck, he shot—_Her brain short circuited again. Because Zahara’s scream became a gurgling laugh, blood spilling out of her mouth. Another shot. She was walking forward. In a moment she was in Wesker’s face, her hand on his throat with him shoved against the desk, down on one of his knees with her impressive strength. He had his pistol jammed into her rib cage. Her eyes flickered amber beneath the lights.

_She’s not human. Either that or she’s high out of her mind and not feeling anything. _“You’re making a scene, darling.” Wesker told her, voice tight with the pressure she had on his neck. Jill struggled with the scissors, the plastic was thick and the blades dull.

Zahara hissed, “You killed me, you _sonofabitch_.”

“I saved your sorry life and you thank me by running around like an idiot. Let’s talk like adults—”

_“You shot—” _

Barry stepped forward, pulled her off Wesker, and shoved her to the ground. Zahara cackled as he flung her, staggering backwards on wobbling legs, “You executed me!” She dripped blood down her chest, a bullet fell from one of her wounds to the floor.

“Barry, please, will you take care of this?”

But he gaped uselessly the same way Jill did. _Let’s put that under the not human category. _

“You put me in that car!”

“I called you a cab, darling. You wanted a ride home from the party, if I recall, because you wanted to sleep.” Wesker hissed at her, making placating movements with his own hands. One of the zip ties finally gave as she’d been sawing with the scissors.

Zahara lunged again for him, “You son of a bitch!”

Jill took the moment herself. She threw herself forward, a frantic scramble on all fours to stay under Barry's line of fire until she reached the door, “Jill!” Barry shrieked, him swearing. Jill was out the door. Running like a maniac. She didn’t care where she was going. The sound of magnum shots behind her.

Maybe that was the end of Zahara. Maybe not. She didn’t know. But she wasn’t ready to stick around and see where all of that _situation_ unfolded. _Run, fucking just run! _

\--

**Couple of the year. Thanks for reading. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Down the rabbit hole we go. **

**Chapter 23: **

Jill ran. It felt like she couldn’t breathe. Everything was far away and foggy. There was a shrieking sound, it sounded more like one of the reptiles than anything else. _I don’t have time for this! _She went for her pistol out of habit. _No weapon. Run. _

In her haste she jammed her arms into the wall beside the elevator, pounding the button. _Think. Think. The weird operating room thing was a floor below. So maybe that’s where the humans are kept. Prison block. Chris and Rebecca. _

She pounded the button again. And then there was the whole wrinkle that not only were they experimenting on humans, they’d been successful at creating non-human humans. They’d created Zahara Bryer. Some bullet proof, human looking being which was able to sustain shots to the chest. Jill heaved her breaths, chest tight with panic. The doors popped open, Jill made her way through and immediately turned around, slamming the button to close the doors and the one for the floor below them. 

Through the elevator door she saw Barry turning the corner of the hallway from where she’d come. One of them was still alive despite the gunshots. He was probably close behind her, watching the elevator to see the floor she headed for.

The elevator doors swung closed and Jill struggled inhale. Her chest tight, crushing her terrified breaths to the point she thought she might get dizzier. She raised her trembling wrist to see one zip tie still attached. No knife anymore. With a sigh Jill lowered it to her side.

_Only you and your wits. _But those ‘wits’ were getting questionable with how tired she was. Doors opened. She had to swipe her wrist band through another turnstile.

**SUBJECT HOUSING PLEASE SEE SECURITY FOR ENTRY **

There were two security hutches with dark tinted windows, empty. Jill would have been tempted to stop and see if she could find something to defend herself, but Barry was probably on her heels. It wasn’t hard to see which floor an elevator stopped on.

She took the first hallway. A door she swiped through with her wrist band to reach a block of medical rooms.

Jill swallowed. It took her through another door. Back into a hallway. This whole place was a maze. But maybe she was getting closer. There were signs on the wall stating that she shouldn’t speak with subjects, that no electronics were allowed on this level. A chill went down her back. How awful it must have been to be kept down here, not knowing what would happen, waiting to be medically tortured—she could hardly fathom it.

Several doors labeled **COLD STORAGE **with the easily recognizable biohazard symbol on it. **SHOWER IN/OUT REQUIRED. **Jill didn’t want to go in any of them. Seeing the yellow pressurized suits hanging inside was enough for her to feel hilariously under qualified to even attempt to enter such a space.

She kept walking. Swiped through another door. This took her past windows into the cold storage labs— multiple layers of glass separating her from the room. Jill looked at the tubes hanging from the ceiling which she assumed were the air supply for the safety suits and then the glass hoods where they worked with different samples. Inside one of the glass hoods was a human on a gurney, he still wore one of the yellow protective suits, dead and limp.

She swallowed. _Chris. Rebecca. Come on. _

On one of the monitor screens above the window had text left up: **Heavy antiviral IV doses might show some efficacy if infection caught early enough. Progression slowed but not halted. Carcinogenic T strain quickly causes neural degeneration. Rapid injury healing observed but virus typically overwhelms host within 24-hours. Regeneration and biting post death observed in 75% of cases. **

** LAB ACCIDENT—Sample dumped into non-secured water systems. Sabotage investigation underway. REPORT ALL STRANGE ACTIVITY. **

Through the window, there were various medical supplies left on the counters. Used gauze pads. IV lines. Empty vials of medications scattered on the counter. They’d been trying to save him, Jill assumed. But they’d lost control of their creation. _Your fucking cancer causing zombie virus. _

What seemed to be a cafeteria room was a strange break from the horror of stumbling lost through these labs. Tables with napkin dispensers with messages encouraging recycling and fake plants and an LED screen made to look like a window showing a live feed of a watering hole for game animals in Dizakeep, Kijuju, Africa. A coffee machine with a stupid joke about replacing the filter paper taped to it. _What planet is this? _

Jill shook her head and kept walking, stepping over cans of soda which had been spilled on the floor, boots sticking in the sugary droplets. Back into the hall. She was on her own again for the moment. Wesker and Barry might have had cameras but also had an ex-girlfriend at least one of them was busy having a domestic spat with. _Literally, what planet is this? _

Another swipe through a door. A sign.

**SUBJECT HOUSING—DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT SECURITY APPROVAL **

_Well, fuck me, right? _Jill swiped her armband and the door popped open. It was definitely set up like a jail. A central intake desk and another security station which her armband allowed her to swipe through. Whoever the guy was that she stole it from—he’d had some clearance. There were rows of cells. A dirty, damp, Lysol stinking hallway with doors, “Chris?” She called, her voice echoed. Jill swallowed. Harsh cleaner mixed with death and rot—exactly what she wanted to be breathing.

Jill jumped when something slammed into the door beside her. A zombie, she slammed her head into the small window on the cell door, uselessly gnashing her teeth. Jill sidestepped, “CHRIS!?” A little louder, “REBECCA?”

_They’re keeping people in cages down here. _Jill didn’t know why it was shocking at this point as she’d expected it, but some things you never got used to. She made it to the end of the hall, peeking in each window. Most of the people were dead, they were lying on their cots or on the floor, filled with tumors. Others wandering aimlessly in circles, clearly viral victims rather than living. Their skin rotting and sloughing.

Jill swallowed, “C-Chris?” Two empty cells at the end of the row. The block was T-Shaped. She went left first, starting slowly down another row, afraid each time she looked in a window she might recognize one of the undead faces.

“JILL!” A woman’s scream, from behind her, the door at the end of the opposite side of the T, “JILL!”

“Jill’s dead, isn’t she?!” Another voice.

“Rebecca!” Jill cried, turning and rushing for her. There she was. Standing in front of the window to the last cell on the end, Chris behind her. Jill bent down despite herself, reaching her hand through the meal slat in the door. They both grabbed onto her, all of their cold hands all trembling and intertwining, “Chris! Oh my God, it’s good to see you guys!”

“You’re alive.” Chris gaped at her like he was seeing a ghost, “It’s Wesker, he said you were dead—”

Rebecca cut him off, “He brought us down here!”

“Barry too! Barry and Wesker!”

“What?” Jill stared at them, “Barry shot Enrico!”

Chris’ eyes widened, “They kidnapped Barry’s daughter and wife. I don’t know what’s happening but he’s Wesker’s dog right now.”

Jill cringed at that. Chris wasn’t wrong in the description and maybe that was why it was so disturbing to her, “I’m going to get you guys out of here.” Jill uselessly tugged on the door, realizing it was electronic, “Hold on.” She managed to yank the lock up halfway to reveal an electronic pad and scan it with her wristband.

The door popped open. Rebecca was on her first, Jill staggered backward as she wasn’t expecting the girl to fling her arms around her so aggressively, filthy face pressed into Jill’s shoulder, “You found us.”

And then Chris was hugging her too. “You’re alive. He said you got shredded by those things.” And Jill let herself lean into them, arms around the both. Rebecca and Chris quivering against her.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yes! Are you?” Chris grabbed her wrist, tugging on the zip tie, “What is this?”

“How did you get down here?” Rebecca asked her when she pulled back, “Wesker had us swipe ID cards with him. We still trusted him and then all of a sudden he and Barry teamed up.” Jill wondered if that was while she was hiding in the cabinet.

“I got separated from Wesker in the garden and cornered. Enrico got shot! Zahara Bryer. She talked me into helping her get down here. She’s Wesker’s ex—”

“What?” Chris looked at her oddly, “Enrico got shot?”

“Listen to me.” Jill heaved a breath, nodding frantically, “He’s dead. He saved me. From Barry. We don’t have time. Barry and Wesker got ahold of me. Apparently Zahara’s…not human.”

Rebecca and Chris were staring at her like she’d completely lost her marbles.

“I watched her get shot in the chest and found files. They’re making X-Men down here—” She tried to explain herself.

“Zahara got shot too?”

“And lived!” Jill cried. They were still staring at her like she was crazy, or maybe they were both as flustered as she, “Okay, we need to get out of here. Barry and Wesker might not be far behind me if Zahara didn’t stab him or something—”

“Zahara’s Wesker’s ex?” Chris asked, following her down the hallway.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you up on it. She’s pretty mad. I think she got experimented on down here. They might have shot her but I…ran for it.” Rebecca and Chris looked at her strangely again, “She’s an X-Man I thought she’d handle herself! She was choking Wesker and I was tied up!” God, this story made no sense as it was coming out of her mouth. 

“Like Captain America bullshit?” Chris asked her. 

“Exactly. I think. The point is she got shot in the chest and was just standing there.” 

“I’d be mad too if my ex-husband brought me down here.” Rebecca nodded along, “How do we get out of here?”

“Wait, Wesker is married?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know their exact relation! I’m operating off a lot of assumptions!” Jill felt like her head was spinning to fast too tell anything of a coherent story about her past few hours, “We have to get out. That’s all I know. And they’re all nuts.”

“Do you know a way out?” Rebecca’s question was innocent enough but managed to make Jill feel like a complete failure.

“…I don’t know.” Jill answered, “Other than forward.” She motioned to her head up to the camera at the end of the block, “Does anyone have anything we can defend ourselves with?”

Rebecca and Chris exchanged a glance, Jill took that as a negative. A red light flashed in the doorway, _“Unauthorized cell opening!”_ The same pleasant electronic voice who’d greeted them when she and Zahara first opened the lab, _“Please see security immediately!” _

“Leaving here! Good idea!” Chris sounded stressed, “Before we all get locked in again.”

Jill’s brain caught up to what Chris told her earlier, “Barry’s family? What did you say about Barry’s family?” 

"I think Umbrella did something to his family. Not sure. He's not working for Wesker willingly." 

"He shot Enrico. He killed for Wesker." Family or not he still was guilty in Jill's mind. 

"Fuck this. Fuck Umbrella." Chris muttered. They were all walking, down mazes of hallways. She and Chris back to back with Rebecca sandwiched between them (not that Jill was completely sure of anything they were doing actually helped them considering they had no weapons, but having someone watch her back made her feel better). They kept walking. Pausing when footsteps echoed from around the corner in front of them. Jill pressed her finger to her lips, holding her breath. Rebecca was stiff as a board beside her.

“I know you’re down here!” That was Barry.

A shadow at the end of the hall. “_Run!” _Jill mouthed. 

“STOP!” He must have already come around the corner and seen them.

_Oh, dammit. _

She grabbed Rebecca by the hood of the jacket, swiping her wrist at the first door next to them and stuffing the teenager through in front of her. Chris was fast behind.

“We can team up on him. If he follows us through.” Chris suggested. The lights popped on automatically.

They were cornered in a medical supply room, another camera directly above their heads, “Okay.” Jill nodded, “Okay.”

“We’re not getting shot in fucking closet.” Chris continued, he grabbed a glass bottle off the shelf by its neck. Rebecca’s face was positively green. She had herself pressed into the corner; hand wrapped around an aerosol first aid spray can.

“Yeah.” Jill looked at Rebecca and then at Chris, “Bet your ass we’re not.”

\--

**Thanks for reading : ) Remember to shoot me a message on Tumblr if you want—Jkit45. **


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you to all my supporters ** **😊 **

**Chapter 24: **

Jill and Chris exchanged a glance again. A pounding on the door, _“Listen!”_ Barry shouted through the door, _“I know you’re in there. I can’t put my gun down. The doctor is watching on the cameras.” _

The two exchanged glances, Rebecca had her eyes closed, head against the wall.

“_I know…I know_—”

“I know about your family.” Jill found the balls to speak. Or maybe she found her vagina. She’d take either at this point, “But I saw you shoot Enrico.”

_“Enrico would have shot me. It was wrong. But they have my family at gunpoint!” _His voice cracked with emotion. It was strange hearing him like that, but Jill still wondered how the hell he’d managed to work himself up to killing in cold blood.

_Enrico had a family! _But not enough gumption to say that thought aloud. Barry was breaking under the duress; she didn’t need to join him in that. She and Chris looked at each other again. Not traditionally armed but with weapons that could still cause Barry a lot of damage, especially if Chris landed a hit of the thick glass over his head. Behind the door they were threatening enough to shoot. He wouldn’t know in what form they were armed and had every reason to kill to save his own skin at this point. _Standoff. _

“I open this door and I’m as dead he was.” Jill stated. She grit her teeth, looking up.

_“We’re all dead regardless if we don’t get out of here!” _Barry was sounding desperate, _“Please. I’ll hold you at gunpoint. We can walk downstairs together.” _

“What’s going on with your family?” Jill hollered. Rebecca looked like she was about to start crying.

_Keep it together, Jill. Keep it together, everybody. _

_“They have my wife and daughter. I have to bring you down to wait for Wesker and he’ll make the call to set them free.” _Jill and Chris exchanged a glance, “_We can turn on him together.” _

Chris shrugged at him. Jill felt like she wanted to cry. She looked at Rebecca, still gripping the spray like she was planning on using it as mace. _“This place has a self destruct, you know.” _He kept talking, _“And there are more people coming. The company will send in its security force and if we’re not out of here and if they find us we’ll all wake up as test subjects in Goddamn Timbuktu.” _

She and Chris looked at each other again. Rebecca swallowed, and surprisingly, Rebecca nodded first, _“What option do we have? Kill him?” _Rebecca whispered frantically, her eyes were reddened and face filthy underneath the florescent light of the closet. Chris nodded second.

Two votes to her one, Jill tallied. Chris stepped out first. Jill held her breath while watching her best friend stare down the barrel of a magnum. No gunshot came. Chris was still living. Jill sighed a breath of relief, immediate sweat breaking out across her body. Barry motioned with his head, “You two, come on.” Jill swallowed. Rebecca was doing her best to appear as if she was permanently stuck in the corner. Jill reached out for Rebecca’s hand and brought her along with them. _“Okay.” _She breathed to her, _“Okay, let’s go.” _The two women hand their hands up, Rebecca’s fingertips lightly on hers.

Rebecca nodded. They walked, their hands up. _Idiots walking to our deaths. _Jill set her teeth. Barry, sweaty as ever, reminded them over and over, “Keep your hands up don’t move fast—”

“How do you know they’re alive?” Jill asked him.

“Wesker showed me pictures.”

_That means literally nothing, _“Were they time stamped? Do you know they’re alive?” Jill pressed. The prognosis for kidnapping victims usually wasn’t good. _You are also a kidnapping victim. Maybe you need to put Chris and Rebecca and you before Barry in this case. _But that wasn’t really an option regardless anymore.

“_They’re alive.” _He said, more forcefully, and it was enough to shut her up. He told Chris where to walk. She and Rebecca trailing behind him like lost ducklings. Jill grit her teeth. They went down another set of stairs. A lower level of the lab, distinctly colder down here. There were dried, bloody footprints from what looked like massive clawed feet—hunters. Jill exhaled. Barry led them into an automatic door which made an electronic chirp. Jill’s wristband buzzed.

Barry lowered his gun. “_No cameras in here.” _He kept his voice low, _“They’re disabled. Wesker wanted them disabled in here for some reason. He had people all over this base.” _It was an office with a few computers.

_ “Did he cause this?” _Jill whispered back.

_“No. He’s balls deep in Umbrella’s Kool Aid. The facility was sabotaged. Arklay facility has been keeping secrets from the rest of the company and they weren’t happy about it.” _Barry explained, _“They were getting close to making human super soldiers—already made at least one successfully if that Zahara woman upstairs if the one that slipped out of their grasp. I think the company decided it was better to shut it all down before more got out of the lab.” _

_ “Kill all these people?” _There was a body on the floor, eviscerated by the hunters. Innards strung on the tile.

_“Dry run of what would happen if the virus got out.” _Barry told her, “_Don’t doubt that Umbrella is watching and analyzing this footage.” _

It took her a moment to glance around the room they were in. It was massive, “_Jill! Guys!” _Barry warned, but there was more to this space than the tiny office they’d first entered. Beyond the frosted glass windows were murky, lit cylinders. Chris went first, Rebecca and Jill close behind him. They filed through the propped open door.

Giant, glass, fluid filled cylindrical tanks which spanned from the floor to the ceiling. There was a naked human woman in the first one, her dark hair floating and framing her face. Tubes were taped into her mouth and nose. Jill raised her hand to the glass. The woman didn’t stir, she just floated, tangled in wires and thick plastic tubing. Her left breast was swollen, veins popping in her neck. It looked like her ribs were partially popped out the side.

Jill read the screen on the tablet installed in the side of her tank.

**T-455: Induced coma due to consistent cardiac arrest and heart swelling. Subject imported from Moscow, Russia. Suspect partial match to symbiotic genes. **

** Cardiac tumors not compatible with long term life. Common symptom of ‘TYRANT’ is swelling of heart tissue due to increased oxygen and blood needs. **

** Warning: no vital signs detected. **

Jill swallowed and backed off the tank, “They do this a lot. Take people?” Jill asked Barry.

He nodded, “Yeah.” More of the massive reptiles in larger tanks. Some of the glass had been shattered—Jill figured that was where their friends in the garden had come from. One looked like it was still unconscious, floating in whatever the hell the solution was, filled with tubes. Another had a shattered container, but it seemed it was dead, breathing tube taped into its mouth and body curled in a crumpled pile. The skin was papery, waterlogged and rotting.

Rebecca had busied herself at one of the computers in the lab. She was taping away. Barry was halfheartedly aiming his gun between the three of them. Jill’s concern was stuck with the woman who was still floating in the tube with her ribs popped out by her heart, “Keep quiet!” Barry warned. A medical table in the middle of the room. Metal with heavy straps. Typical.

Chris was open mouthed at something else. It was another human. Or at least had been at one point. A man this time. His skin had turned grey and his hands and arms had morphed into grotesque clawed hands. His teeth popping from his lips, sharpened and large. His ribs were also popped out, heart swelling beneath his skin, “Oh my god.” Chris muttered.

“These poor people.” Jill managed. Against the wall was an open stairwell which looked like it led down to another storage room filled with the capsules. She opted to stay on the same level as her companions and Barry. Venturing too far in this place was a death sentence. Rebecca still typing away. Barry came to Chris, warning him again not to try anything funny.

_Tell that to Rebecca. _Jill thought, figuring the intern was up to something of substance. Jill reached into several desk drawers. A body slumped over the desk. He was filled with tumors, as they all were. Something on his belt caught her attention—a pistol. She looked up. Barry was busy harassing Chris and Chris’ short fuse was starting to escalate, Jill saw him throw his arms in frustration.

_He shot Enrico and he’s got us at gunpoint. _She swallowed, knowing this was as distracted as Barry likely would be, and took the pistol. Five shots.

Jill took it and shoved it into the front of her belt, pulling her shirt over it.

“Guys!” Rebecca breathed urgently, waving them over. Jill carefully stepped around the mess of dry blood and spilled fluids on the floor, boot crunching on a piece of glass.

She had the security panel pulled up, “There’s already an emergency declared, and since no one has checked into a computer in hours, it’s considered critical and allowed for an option to get rid of all together.” Rebecca had a notification pulled up, “There’s a…cleansing option. It gives us an hour to find a way out.”

“Like what? Self-destruct?” Jill clarified.

“Bad idea.” Barry stated.

“Have you seen this place?” Chris asked him, “They’re kidnapping people all over the world. Doing genetic experiments, unleased a virus into the wild that actually could _damage the entire world.” _

“And they made some kind of superhuman woman who’s currently running around society.” Jill continued, “It gives us an hour?”

“Yeah, an hour. Then it self-destructs the lab. Extra hot to destroy any traces in here and the water supply.” Rebecca nodded. She had the mouse cursor hovered over it.

“Do you…think…we can just click it?” Jill asked, squinting at the screen.

“Do it.” Chris said.

“I second that.” Jill nodded.

“Guys—” Barry tried to protest, he put his gun at the back of Rebecca’s head. She stiffened for a moment, “Don’t.”

“I third that.” Rebecca, who had more gumption than maybe Jill gave her credit for, had already clicked the button. It popped up a notification that they’d need a key card of an authorized staff member.

Jill stepped forward and scanned her card.

“This was a bad idea.” Barry said. His magnum turned to Jill, quivering with his entire body. Jill sidestepped in front of Rebecca while she was playing with the computer. She stared Barry in the eyes but his gaze planted somewhere behind her head.

_She’s a little older than your daughter, you fuck. That’s right. Tremble. _She wasn’t going to say any of that, but it sure felt good to think it at him. “We got it.” Rebecca said.

The automated computer voice: _“Facility has crossed point of viable recovery as determined by systems and senior staff members. Self-destruct has been activated. One hour until detonation. Please evacuate.” _

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Jill muttered, “Where’s Wesker? Let’s handcuff the bastard and drag him out with us.”

Rebecca suddenly pressed her finger to her lips, “_Voices!” _She breathed, pointing to the open stairwell.

\--

**Shit is hitting the fan next chapter. Drop me a comment ** **😊 **


	25. Chapter 25

**So many pieces moving in this one again! **

**Chapter 25: **

“We used to be a good team.” Wesker was saying, his voice distant and echoing. They’d moved to the top of the stairs, trying to listen, “Really.”

Zahara’s squeaky voice jarred Jill, though she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised: “Yeah…when you talked me into doing all that shit for you.” She drawled.

“Please. You helped the company and your step-father and I out a lot.” Wesker stated. It sounded like glasses clinking, “Considering Barry is hunting for those idiots and they somehow managed to activate the self-destruct, I say we pack up this show soon, darling.”

_Have a drink together, might as well. _Jill thought bitterly.

“_She was shot. Several times.” _Barry looked even sicker.

_“Well, she’s the DNA changed one that got out, isn’t she?” _Jill breathed.

“You’re inviting me to come along with you? Bonnie and Clyde? Freak and all? I think that ended with me and a firing squad last time, Albert.” Zahara didn’t sound upset.

“What’s your alternative? Alfred’s ridiculous Rockfort facility? That place is worse than here. You think him and that sadistic sister of his would serve you any better than my people? We’ve known each other for a long time whether we like it or not. Cheers.” Another _tink _of glasses, “Besides. Firing squad or not you’re beautiful as ever. Didn’t seem it was too bad for you.”

Jill wanted to gag. _Are you kidding me, these two are still at it? Lying out his ass so you don’t kill him. _But from Zahara’s tone she was soaking it up like a sponge, “You flatter me.”

“You deserve it.” Wesker’s usually disarming chuckle _sickened _Jill.

Chris was making palm-up, confused gestures and mouthing, _“What the actual fucking fuck?” _

_“I know.” _Jill mouthed back, making a crazy gesture using her forefinger circling at her temple, _“screws loose, the both of them.” _

“You always were a good talker.” Zahara continued. Jill wondered what they were up to down there. The whole teaming up on Wesker plan suddenly got a lot harder when he had another battering ram of a person on his side.

“How’s it looking?” He asked her, a little more forcefully.

“Alfred gave it to me but still trying to install the software.” Zahara told him. Jill assumed that was the flash drive they’d found the note about.

“What’s it like?” Wesker asked her, suddenly.

“I don’t know I’ve never used it.” Zahara sounded like she was getting frustrated.

“No…not that.”

Jill sensed the air between them change, like all of the good-natured feeling from Zahara’s voice caught a chill: “Oh. That. It’s…different.”

“Liberating?” The doctor sounded hungry, almost. Jill held her breath.

_Oh, god he wants her to describe what it was like to have her DNA changed. _Jill glanced around the tubes and the table with the straps and just really didn’t think she wanted to know, “Different.” Zahara answered again, “Why? Thinking you found a way to turn yourself and not die? Wasn’t that the whole problem?”

_He wants this? _

“Nah…” Wesker answered, “Different.”

“What does that mean?” She made a nervous laugh.

“What does it matter?” He answered, “What matters is that…we’ll do it right, this time. We’ll take this data. This will all be gone. I know you’ve never liked the nature of the work but all the people we save. Think of them. Compared to Alfred and Alexia you know our work is positively humane. Best Birkin and I hang on to it. Do you hear anyone near? Shall I send you to look for Barry?”

“No need.” Zahara answered, “People are listening to us. There are a few of them breathing. I hear their little hearts beating. Up on the stairs. They just got here.” 

A jolt went up Jill’s spine, they looked frantically between each other, “Zahara.” Wesker’s voice was warning. 

“You never asked.” She drawled back, “Your lack of friends isn’t my problem.”

“Go. Go.” Barry growled, magnum aimed at them, “Down the stairs, hands up.” The three of them, cornered, did as told. Jill was careful when raising her arms that the movement didn’t raise her shirt above the pistol tucked into her pants.

_Zahara definitely adds a big problem here. _

For some reason Jill had a thread of hope that Zahara was using Wesker to save her own skin as much as he was doing the same to her. Maybe that was it. Zahara gulped down a glass of some kind of liquor and turned her back, working on the computer again, “Hi Jill. Good work back there with the scissors, I was proud of you.”

“Considered you to be a woman with higher tastes.” Jill countered, “Guess I was wrong.”

“I don’t think you can make fun of anyone’s tastes, Jill, aren’t you engaged to that weirdo in New York?” Zahara said without looking up.

_Why do you know about Hector? _That was another jolt through her as she realized _Zahara might know about her family. _There were more containers. Thankfully most were empty, but one was behind Wesker. A grotesque, silver-skinned humanoid. It had massive clawed hands and again, the heart had erupted from its ribcage. _Shit. _

“Shelf it!” Barry growled, “Where’s my end of the bargain?”

Wesker sighed, looking like he was about to say something, “Will you just let his family go before he has a fucking heart attack?” Zahara asked him, “I’ve had enough of you people.”

“I’m a man of my word.” Wesker said. He had his pistol on them one handed, but picked up the landline from the desk. _There’s a functional landline! _A few tense, silent moments before Wesker said, “Let them go.” He put the phone down, “They’ll leave the house. Unless I tell them to go back. Nice and easy. Nothing to worry about.”

_Landline. We need to get our hands on that landline. _Jill swallowed, looking to Barry. How were they going to do this? Wesker had his gun on them, and unlike Barry who looked like a cornered animal, Wesker was as collected as she’d ever seen him.

“You.” Chris hissed, “I trusted you.”

“Keep your friends close, enemies closer.” Wesker smirked. Chris went to step forward. Wesker stiffened, “I wouldn’t. If you like being alive.”

“You were my friend.” Chris said, “And here we are.”

“Here we are.” Wesker deadpanned, “And like I said, there’s plenty of space in Umbrella for talented people, but you were quite against it.”

“No shit I was against it!” Chris growled.

“I want to show you something.” Wesker said, motioning behind him, “Tyrant. The perfect being. Impervious to pain.” He motioned to the grey-skinned behemoth with its veins swelling from its neck. 

Zahara whipped around in her chair, “I guarantee Mr. Grey over there feels pain. Speaking from experience.”

“Will you finish your project?” Wesker asked her. She rolled her eyes and returned to typing uselessly, wiggling the flash drive in the USB port. 

Jill looked at Barry, raising her eyebrows at him, willing him to do something. He was sweating, green, wavering on his feet despite still having his magnum on them. Even so, he winked at her. _If you’re gonna do something, Burton, do it now. _

“Impervious to injury. No emotional constraints. Will clear a building without fret, heal himself, and do it again. It’s beautifully simple minded. Practical. No trauma to soldiers. And the applications for humankind are endless.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think any of this is a good idea.” Jill shook her head. _Barry? _

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along.” Zahara drawled, “But here we all are and I’ve gotta be the poster child for some reason.”

“How we doing, Ms. Z?” Wesker asked again.

“It’s not working.” Zahara said.

“You’re the one who was put up to this task.” Wesker sounded irritated.

“I wasn’t given a training manual!” She shrugged, “His thing isn’t working and I’m getting tired. Besides, if I’m gonna be working with you we’re going to set some serious ground rules about all this!”

“Hack the computer, Zahara.” Wesker told her, “I’m dealing with this.”

“You want to switch places?” She pressed, and he seemed to take her up on that. She had her pistol on them. Cocking her head back and forth. Jill wasn’t sure if she felt better or not with Zahara having her eyes on them.

“It’s a flash drive.” Wesker drawled, yanking it out. He was starting to sweat, to quiver. Veins in his neck popping as if he was in physical pain. Jill hoped he was.

“It’s not a flash drive.” Zahara flashed her teeth with a nervous laugh, “It’s probably because everything’s been locked with the self-destruct.”

Wesker made a frustrated noise and yanked it out, tossing the plastic across the floor.

He shouldered her out of the way, gun pointed at them, “Which of you idiots started the self-destruct?”

“You know what?” Zahara grinned at him, she turned the muzzle of her pistol toward the ceiling, “None of this shit fuckin’ matters, love. I need to barrow you, sweetheart.” In a blink she was behind Rebecca, gun wedged under her chin, “I’m out of here, and all you fuckin’ people can just figure it out.” Forearm around Rebecca’s neck, thumb stroking her chin, “Shhh, shhh, sweetheart, I just need your help to get out of here before someone tries to shoot me again.”

“Get off me!” Rebecca growled, but Zahara tightened on her neck, dragging her backward toward another sliding door.

“Zahara.” Wesker warned. He had his pistol on Chris and Jill.

_“Barry.” _Jill breathed. _Now would be a good time. _The terrible, sinking suspicion that they’d been duped. Wesker pivoted.

A shot rang through the air. Rebecca gasped, and her legs went from under her, “Rebecca!” Chris screamed. Zahara held her up by the neck for a moment, she was silent, face pale, eyes closed. He’d shot her straight in the chest, Jill realized, watching Zahara let her slide to the floor like a lifeless doll, her knees flopped sideways when Zahara let her fall the rest of the way.

_Oh, no, no. No, that didn’t just happen. _

“She’s a kid!” Zahara shrieked. Another shot, clean through her forehead. She crumpled to the floor on top of Rebecca.

Then another. Jill pulled her pistol but someone beat her to it. Wesker groaned in pain and fell against the tank, dropping his pistol to clutch his knee, mangled by the caliber of Barry’s magnum. Thick glass behind him had been nicked by the bullet, a spiderweb crack formed on the container.

Chris grabbed Wesker’s pistol, “It’s over. Hands up.”

“’Becca!” Jill had never called her that, but it was all she could manage, pivoting on her toes to face the bodies of the two women. _She might be alive. Maybe. _How they’d carry her out if so was another question.

_“Forty minutes until self-destruct!” _

_What is this? _

“Nothing’s over.” Wesker was pale faced, heaving quick breaths, letting out a stuttering laugher, “Nothing’s over.” He tapped at the veins on the inside of his left arm, body quivering. Pale blue eyes filled with the fire of panic. He’d be going into shock from that injury. _Makes two we carry out. Bet his butt we’re dragging him to jail. _High pitched squealing like ice breaking—Jill opened her mouth to point out that the canister was going to break, that she could see the cracks climbing to the top, but it was too late.

A terrible noise, a crunch like a car accident and followed by a gush of fluid. It stunk like iron and alcohol mixed together, soaking her up to her knees. The canister had exploded, and the grey tyrant being begun to limply fall forward. It stuck out a bare foot, catching itself before it fell straight on top of Wesker, ripping the tubes from its nose and throat with its hand. Barry fired once, blowing out a section of its ribcage.

The scream it made was low and gravely. Golden eyes turned down to Wesker’s writhing form. With one swipe a clawed hand lifted him off the ground, piercing his abdomen. The man was limp, his blood and innards spilling in a spray across Jill. Barry fired again, blowing out a chunk of flesh from the creature’s heart.

Jill reeled backwards, arms and face splattered with what felt like warm oil but she knew was Wesker’s blood. She groaned, spitting. Nothing felt like it was in her eyes or mouth, but still, who the fuck knew if he had some disease. “Jill?” Chris fired and Jill steeled herself to join him, aiming and firing, twice. Blood poured from the newly inflicted wounds.

The tyrant roared again, flinging Wesker’s limp body from its hand straight into Barry before turning on her. Wesker’s mangled form sent Barry slamming sideways into the desk beneath him. _Let’s dance. _

She stepped backward, fired. Gasping, wheezing behind her. _Oh god, Rebecca’s alive. Oh, I know you’re in pain, hang in there, Rebecca. _

Couldn’t backup anymore, then. Had to get this thing away from Rebecca. She was defenseless on the ground. Chris fired once, another stream of blood down the front of its hulking chest. Its breaths begun to gurgle but it still marched forward. The bleeding stinted itself nearly as soon as it started, blood and glandular tissue making a nauseating, bubbling mass around its heart. _It regenerates. _“Headshot. Headshot knocked out Zahara.” She managed.

She was down to two shots, but the creature was large, unbalanced from how big it’s clawed hands had grown. It wasn’t nimble. “Top heavy!” Chris shouted. It glanced between them, cocking its head back and forth and blinking golden eyes. Lips pulled back over teeth to hiss.

“You’re right!” She motioned with her head, “Through there!” The two of them were small enough to leap between the glass cylinders.

The tyrant tried to follow them, getting its broad shoulders stuck halfway and growling, fighting the glass. Partially shattering one of the tanks and tearing into its own skin on the jagged edges as it tried to push through. Chris unloaded the pistol, hitting its face, its chest. A part of it’s jaw blew off from one of the shots, painting the cylinder beside it with bright red droplets. Jill aimed once more. Pistol rocked in her handsIt went slack with a gurgle, falling limp with its body partially wedged between the two. Blood dripping from its face and where it partially drove the thick glass into its own shoulder.

“It probably won’t stay dead long. Something’s happening.” Chris said, pointing with bloody finger to the bubbling flesh along the side of its face, “We need to hurry.”

Barry was gagging, staggering. He looked concussed, soaked with Wesker’s blood, “You!” Jill was half yelling, pointing, “Get on that phone! Call us the pilot—Brad! Call us anyone! I don’t care who! We have a chest gunshot wound we need a life flight!”

“Rebecca.” He squeaked, “I…I…” He pressed his hand to his head where he had a gash at his hairline.

“Get on the phone!” Jill screamed, “She’s alive!”

“Oh, no.” Chris and she were on their knees at the same time, Chris lifting Zahara’s dead body off of Rebecca’s. Jill had her hands on the girl’s chest, through her barrowed jacket.

Chris had more first aid training than she, he ripped the zipper down on her coat, “Okay, kiddo, okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

“Can you hear me, Reb?” Jill was trying desperately not to panic. Rebecca’s pale face, she fought desperately to inhale, back arched on the floor, “You’re okay, Reb, you’re okay. We’re going to get you out of here.”

_“Thirty minutes until self-destruct!” _

“Can you hear me?” Jill asked her, pushing her short hair back, slapping her cheek lightly.

“Ch…chest….ve…st…” Rebecca raised her arms weakly, Chris pressed her down.

“Holy shit.” Chris said, pulling open her jacket, “This is Kevlar. He shot her right on the plate. Point blank and it’s not fitted right, but the bullet stopped.” The stupid Kevlar vest she'd been wearing in the room with Richard. Jill pressed her forehead down into Rebecca’s shoulder, inhaling to stop herself from letting out a relieved sob. Chris’ hand met the back of Jill’s neck, giving her a comforting squeeze. A strange urge to fling her leg over Chris and kiss him at the news, and then the immediate short of her brain. _Jill, what is wrong with you? Save the insane ideas and happy to be alive sex for when your out of here. With the dude you’re engaged to if he's not too much of a shithead about all the texts you’ve been missing. _Hector would just have to deal. 

Jill traced Rebeca’s hairline with her thumb, her other hand settling on top of Chris’ on the back of her neck, trying to silently thank him. For being there. For existing. For being alive.

_Still like getting hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. She’s not out of the woods, but way less critical. _

Rebecca gave her a weak thumbs up, partially lidded green eyes looking up at her. Jill moved her hand from Chris’ to Rebecca’s.

“Help me roll her.” Chris said, “Get the vest off, make it easier for her to breathe. Support her neck.” Jill remembered first aid training, she held Rebecca’s neck carefully, so she wouldn’t flop her head to the side.

“Bre…Breathe…” Rebecca gasped.

“I know, you had the wind knocked out of you, but your okay, probably some broken ribs so you’re in a lot of pain.” Chris told her, “That’s normal. It’s not life threatening.” Rebecca’s little nod and gasps against her fingertips made Jill want to cry herself. Everything was distant and nightmarish, echoing around her. They managed to pull off Rebecca’s jacket and the now useless Kevlar plated vest.

“That thing’s heavy, Becca, it’s only good for one shot.” Chris told her.

“I hate…Becca…” Rebecca gasped, seemingly getting her breath back.

“Okay, great. If you can tell me that you’re not in mortal danger.” Chris chuckled.

“My neck…okay…Only…chest…” She swallowed hard. They let her lay on her back again, drawing her knees up and hugging her chest as breaths seemed to be coming easier. Jill provided her hand as a pillow.

“How’s that extraction?” Jill asked Barry, who stepped over, then sidestepped like a drunk man, barely catching himself, “I think you need to sit down too.”

“When I’m dead.” He answered, “Brad’s on the line. Where are we? I can’t think of this mountain’s name.”

“Uhh.” Chris closed his eyes, stuttering something out. She was glad Chris had a better idea than she about their approximate location with cardinal directions and names of the various mountains, “It’s a huge house, with an orchard. He probably can land in the orchard. And definitely can see the complex from above.”

Barry nodded, echoing what Chris was saying into the receiver. The old fashioned twisted cord stretched to its limit from the desk, “How’s she?”

“Broken ribs at least. Shot over a Kevlar vest. She’ll need a doctor when we land.” Jill told him over her shoulder, “Concussion for you too.”

Seemingly recovering enough of her strength, Rebecca tried to sit up. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but Jill sure as hell wasn’t going to stop her. She needed to get on her feet to get out of here. Especially since it seemed Barry was hardly on his.

Rebecca clasped her hands to her left chest, gasping for breaths, looking at Jill, “Wesker…blood…”

Jill looked down only then to see she was as bloody as Barry was, “Dead.” She managed, “Do you think we can stand her up?” She asked Chris. 

“I can….stand.” Rebecca managed.

“Great. Let’s get out of here because Mr. Grey is twitching.” Chris said, pulling Rebecca’s arm over his shoulders.

_\---_

**Wesker is a slimy, manipulative fuck yet actually thinks he’s the hero. And I love him. Hope you guys enjoyed! A lot of moving pieces and a lot of people who have been pushed to the absolute breaking point and I was trying to keep everyone in character. **

**I’m starting to outline the sequel to this fic. It will be called _Homefront. _So far it’s a lot of Jill/Chris/Hector and a lot of me figuring out how Claire and Jill are gonna intersect in 2/3. <strike>And a lot more smut. </strike>**

**Drop me a comment. **


	26. Chapter 26

**Thanks to all of my readers. Love you guys! **

**Chapter 26:**

“Okay, Rebecca. We got to move.” Jill muttered, she ended up taking Rebecca’s arm over her shoulders. The girl made a groan of pain and leaned heavily on her. The tyrant tucked its quivering leg beneath itself, acting like it was working up the nerve to pull its body off the glass. She shuttered. “Chris! That thing’s moving!”

“Oh, shit.” Chris went for Barry, helping him to walk. The tyrant made a rumble and shook his head, “How close is Brad?”

“Twenty or so minutes.” Barry held his hand to his head, “He’s flown over the orchard before. They’ve been looking for us since the storms let up.”

Jill nodded, struggling to lean Rebecca on her shoulders so she could swipe her wrist before taking a grip of her shirt again. “Let’s go, let’s go.” Jill muttered.

Chris and Barry followed them. She swiped her wrist again to close the door. The tyrant was back on its shaking feet, _“Self-destruct has been activated. Follow lit pathways to the exit.” _The woman hummed over the loudspeakers. The power cut, hallways floodlit, the lights making a forward wave motion along the seam where the wall met the floor. _Must be what that means. Solves one problem. _Jill had no idea how to get out of the lab. Rebecca was coming to her senses, taking her arm off Jill’s shoulders. Rebecca’s hands wrapped in the polo Jill wore to partially support herself.

A slam behind them, so hard the metal frame of the electronic door bowed, “Oh, shit.” Rebecca muttered, “Keep moving!”

Another slam, “Chris? Barry?”

“I took his gun!” Chris was halfway carrying Barry, a few strides behind her. They probably didn’t need to be moving him either, considering how dizzy he was from the head injury. _A concussion and some broken ribs, we’ll fix them both. Hopefully his family is okay. _Rebecca leaned against the wall for a moment to wheeze. _Maybe more than ribs. Best keep her moving. _

They pounded down the hall, following the lights up a set of stairs to the next floor. Rebecca dragged herself by the railing, “Think we should try to stun him again?” Chris asked.

“Oh, hell no!” Jill shouted, “We can’t fight that thing! Keep going!” Assuming there was a way out at the end of where the lights were taking her. A howl and screaming metal as Jill assumed the tyrant ripped down the door.

_Heart rate. It can hear our hearts, our breaths. _At least if it was similar to Zahara. It would be behind them. At the top of the staircase was another set of hallways. With the self-destruct set, all of the doors had slammed closed to the offices and rooms, locked, the same floodlights lining the floors with a forward-moving flashing. Pounding on the stairs. A pause as they looked down several pathways. Jill was panting, _instinct, instinct. _All of the lights were flashing, leading them different directions.

“All of them might be for an elevator.” Barry suggested.

_Pound, pound, pound _and the same deep growl.

_“Twenty-five minutes until self-destruct!” _

“Left.” Jill decided. Barry held a handkerchief to his head, she pushed him forward, the last two shots in her small pistol weighed heavy in her hand. The caliber was so low that she wondered if it would pack enough damage to even make the thing hesitate.

_Guess you’ll find out when it comes down to it. _

Rebecca leaned against the wall, “I need….breathe…”She made a whistling sound as she drew her breaths. Jill wondered if she had a bruised lung and left her resting against the wall to jog ahead. An elevator, though it had been sealed off, a barrier of office furniture stacked in front of it.

She yanked at the first chair, finding that the pile had been tied and soldered down, “Fuck!” She hissed through her teeth. Gravely roaring behind them. It sounded like it was on the same level. Chris joined her, trying to yank on the pile. The two of them together hardly budged it.

“On three!” Jill shouted, “One…two…three!” They both yanked. No avail. Barry tried to yank on the pile with them, uncoordinated and nearly falling, “Again!” Still nothing.

Barry leaned into the pile, heaving and vomiting onto the floor. Jill frowned, “Yeah, he’s concussed.”

“He…needs a doctor…not good.” Rebecca panted, her face into the wall where Jill had left her, cheek smooshed against the cinderblocks.

“You too.” Jill told her, exhaling, pushing her hair back out of nervous habit and feeling the mud still caked into some of the strands. Her skin crawled.

“Another way. There’s another way out.” Chris nodded at her, wide-eyed.

“Yeah! Right!” Jill agreed, she pushed Barry along this time. The tyrant’s head poked around the corner from the staircase. It hissed and stalked forward, “Go! Straight!” The hallway opened to a higher ceiling space. Security kiosks, like the ones Barry and Wesker dragged her through although she was pretty sure they were on a different level now. The elevator at the end of the hall was dead.

Chris swore, slapping the dead call button.

LED screens on the sides of the doors blinked: **_EMERGENCY ACTIVATED! FOLLOW SECURITY AND DOCTOR INSTRUCTIONS! SHOWER OUT! _**

Creaking of the tyrant getting itself hung on the turnstile. “This way!” Jill wasn’t sure if it was for the best, but there was a staircase symbol at the end of the hallway, “We have to go up!” Another partial drag of Rebecca and Barry to the next level. Thankfully, the floor lights were lit again, motioning them forward.

The tyrant was following them. Jill heard it slam through the door at the bottom of the stairwell. A strange, one-tracked mind thing. Maybe because it was once a human being rather than an animal, and they’d somehow programmed it to hunt down any living thing. _This is all so screwed up I don’t even know where to start. _

She could wax poetic about it in the report.

_“Twenty minutes until detonation!” _

How was the clock moving so fast? The lit flooring corralled them into a more centralized shower room. Heavy footsteps behind them. They ran for it, Rebecca’s breaths squeaking and Barry leaning his hand against the wall. Chris was trotting backwards, he still had Barry’s magnum, and nimbly reloaded. 

He fired once. It shrieked. Jill shoved Rebecca through the shower room doors. An immediate deluge. Barry groaned and gagged again, blood from his wound pouring down the side of his face. “Come on!” She grabbed his elbow. The shower deposited them into them in front of a more industrial lift than she’d seen down here before. This must have been the main elevator, it seemed to be central to the facility, although she was so spun around now it was hard to tell.

The tyrant clawed its way through the shower behind them, Jill slammed the button for the elevator. Chris squared off with the magnum. Barry always carried a stupid number of bullets for being a game warden. Maybe him knowing this place was out here explained it. “Get them out of here! I’ll hold it off!” Chris shouted.

He fired once. The creature shrieked and grabbed its chest, going down on one knee, _“Hell no!” _The doors to the lift weren’t opening, “Chris!” Her body in front of Rebecca, shoving the younger woman into the closed doors of the lift while she slammed the button over and over.

Chris looked at her, and he looked scared: “No time! Too close!” Shit, he had a point. It was fucking close. She raised the tiny pistol. Aimed. Missed. Fuck, this was the stupidest little handgun. Last shot. Another aim and a hit in the side of its face. The damn tyrant was close enough she could almost touch it, looking up again with its malevolent gold eyes. Chris had the magnum though. He had half a chance to stun it again with his firepower, “Over here, asshole!” He was yelling, waving his arms, distracting the tyrant from the lift. It turned towards him, raising lips over teeth in a snarl.

“Chris!”

“Jill. Go.” He growled, “Get them out.”

“You better be on the next one up!” Jill shouted after him. The door finally opened. She body checked Rebecca through while dragging Barry by the arm.

“Bet your ass, Valentine.” Another gunshot. The tyrant roared and staggered backward, clutching its face.

She shouted over the noise: “See you soon!” He fired again. Jill slammed the top button which apparently took them up to a ground level. Doors closed painfully slow, Chris waving his arms at the beast, stepping carefully around it to like up his next shot. And then they were sealed, and she was moving. _He’ll be fine. He’s okay. Has to be. _There was an emergency light in the elevator which illuminated a glass case. The electronics rattled beneath their feet as it lifted them.

Barry handed her a combat knife; she held the leather wrapped blade and used the handle to break the glass. **EMERGENCY KIT. **Jill reached in and grabbed what she could. A first aid kit and flares. _Make do. _“Hold this!” She ordered Rebecca, who dutifully stood while Jill tossed the first aid kit strap over her head and shoulder.

Jill grabbed road flares, as many as she could, stuffing them into the pockets of her utility belt. The door rolled open.

Sunlight spilled into the lift, almost blinding her. _It’s morning. Holy shit, you made it. _It was hot and sticky and she’d somehow managed to survive to see morning. _Don’t get too excited yet. _“Go, go!” Jill ordered. The lift spit them out at what looked like a cement helicopter pad. _Convenient. _It seemed to be on the side of the house, surrounded by a brick wall topped with razor wire. There were gates, through which she could see the orchard.

**ELECTRIC WIRE**

_That’s fine, we can work with this. _This must have been how they acquired industrial shipments into the lab. Abandoned guard towers at the corners of the fenced pad.

The distinct, sharp scent of gasoline on the air, “Careful of those flares.” Barry pointed. There was a fueling tank. Someone had succumbed to the virus while filling a Jeep with gasoline, and the nozzle had been knocked from the tank and fuel was spilled across the cement. _The fumes are flammable. Tread lightly. _Jill grit her teeth. She stepped into the helicopter pad. It was halfway covered in the oily puddle—more gasoline.

“Any sign of Chris?”

A distant, electronic voice, _“Ten minutes until detonation!” _

“The call light on the elevator!” Rebecca shouted, “It went back down!”

_Come on, Chris. Come on. See the sun with me. _Jill nodded, headed for the gate. She didn’t like Brad setting down on top of a puddle of fuel. Locked with a padlock. She ripped a leftover bobby pin out of her hair, using her mouth to twist it and bend the edge. Jill folded it, over and over at the bend, breaking it into two pieces. Just what she needed. Stuffed one edge in, trying to feel the spring in the locking mechanism, “Is Chris here?”

“Lift is coming up!”

Jill paused, the wires sticking out the base of the lock. _Ride, we need a ride out of here. Brad needs to find us. _She opened one of the flares, struck the flame, and lobbed it over the fence. Maybe he’d see it. But it was a bright, sunny day. Wet enough from the rain that she wouldn’t need to worry about lighting the grass.

“_Don’t get tense when you’re picking a lock. You make a lot of noise, your hands sweat, you can’t make them work right.” Her father leaned over her, “It takes finesse.” _

_ “Finesse.” She’d echoed. _

Jill swallowed. _Thanks, dad, come on. _Her whole body was quivery, but she wiped the sweat from her palms onto dampened pants and tried again.

“The elevator?!” She screamed over her shoulder.

“It’s coming up!” Rebecca called back.

“Is it Chris?”

“I don’t know!”

How would Rebecca know that? Jill supposed it was a stupid question, but she was clinging to her sanity.

The padlock popped open under her hands after another minute of trying. _Thank you, dad, we’ll talk about the Umbrella shit later._ Jill tossed it aside and yanked the gate open, “It’s open! Go, go!” She ordered, stuffing another flare in Rebecca’s hand. At least if Brad couldn’t find them, they could maybe run far enough from the blast for the moment.

_Until the dogs show again. _

Distant thundering noise of helicopter blades. Jill stared at the lift. There was gasoline between her and the doorway. Either the tyrant or Chris was on it, and she was certainly going to find out which one, “Watch out for dogs!” She yelled behind her.

A flare in her hands, ready to strike. _Don’t burn yourself to a crisp, Jill, that’s not what you need. _

She glanced at the puddle of gasoline, rotors getting closer. Rebecca was waving a flare, focused on the sky. Chris nearly jumped out the door to the lift, looking like he’d seen a ghost, “Are you okay?” Jill managed and felt herself grinning. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He was alive. They’d made it. It felt like whatever icy vice had gripped her heart had suddenly let go, the relief flooding through her, adrenaline shakes finding their way up her knees.

“It’s climbing! The…the shaft!” Chris panted. She saw that the magnum barrel was opened. 

A crash into the metal, the floor of the lift buckled, “Holy shit.” Jill growled. _Well, one way to signal. _“There’s gasoline everywhere. The gate’s open. Think the fire will stop it?” She asked him.

“Good idea! We’re at less than five minutes!” He replied, checking his watch. He’d set his watch with the countdown! She should have thought of that, “But back up, holy shit that’s a whole tank.”

“Yeah.” A harsh slamming on the metal, the lift rattled, “We can’t let that thing out of here.” Jill said.

Chris had her by the arm, the two of them bolting for the gate she’d managed to unlock, “Do it?”

“Do it.” He agreed. Jill struck the flair, and tossed it. For a terrible moment nothing happened. Jill wondered if she’d missed until it caught, cement becoming a sea of flames. A sudden burst of heat on her back and more ignited, “Go! Get down.” Chris pushed her into the pathway between trees, their hands clasped together as a terrible noise and rush of heat went over them. Grass tickled her nose and cheeks, it’s summery, fresh smell a stark change for the rot she’d been breathing for hours. The brick wall took the brunt of the impact, Jill realized when she risked a glance behind them, the gate had been knocked off its hinges, the fenced pad still burning in an inferno. 

There were rotors. Loud. Jill’s ears rang.

Roaring fire and the inhuman, panicked screaming of the creature which turned to a gurgle and then silent, “Dead. It’s gotta be.” Jill stated. Chris pulled her to her feet. The helicopter was above them, dipping low. The rotors touched the ground several meters from them in an open patch.

“Go. Go.” Chris hauled her to her feet. She grabbed Rebecca while he Barry. A man with a medical kit opened the side door of the helicopter.

“We have to get out of here! The place is going to explode!” Jill shouted, doubtful he heard her over the rotors. The step up into the helicopter was when her adrenaline and exhausted body decided it had enough. Her legs became noodles. She caught herself by the arms halfway into the door.

“Gunshot wound?” The EMT asked.

“No. Him first. He’s worse than me.” Rebecca motioned to Barry. And Jill was glad she did because she wasn’t sure she could choke out a coherent sentence.

“Jill?” Chris asked her.

“I’m fine.” Her knees hurt, so did her fingers, she realized her knuckles were raw and split.

He grabbed her by the belt and pulled her in with him.

Rebecca lying on her back on the floor, Jill and Chris practically on top of each other in the bench seat, “Where are the rest?” Brad shouted.

“We are the rest!” Jill shouted back.

“What?”

“They’re dead! Go! It’s gonna blow!” She watched the color drain from his face. The EMT had already gone for Barry, pressing a fresh gauze pad against his forehead.

Brad, after seemingly a moment of hesitation, perhaps sensing Jill’s panic and urgency, lifted the helicopter.

Their panting echoing around them. She knew Brad radioed for the police but couldn’t bring herself to care. Thankfully the EMT was silent, working on Barry’s wounds and then asking Rebecca questions as she was sprawled on the floor between them, clutching her chest. Her breaths fogged an oxygen mask placed over her nose and mouth.

A flash of light beneath them. _“Holy shit.” _The EMT muttered, steadying himself against the wall of the helicopter.

“Hang on!” Brad banked hard. Jill gripped Chris’ arm to balance herself while he braced against the wall.

The orchard was a flash of light, and everything was still, another terrible moment as if the earth and the mansion were deciding whether or not they were going to hold themselves together. But then it was all fire, the land caving in as the lab imploded, the trees turned to blackened skeletons which disappeared as ghosts in the fire.

Jill was still halfway on top of Chris, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, his trembling hand still gripping her by the belt like he might need to drag her through another doorway. _Oh, God. They’re dead. _Jill swallowed hard and realized she neither had the energy nor the desire to move from Chris’ shoulder. Rebecca’s tears streamed down her face, cutting lines in the soot covering her.

He reached his other trembling hand up, fingers meeting her neck at her pulse point and pressing down, “I’m alive.”

“Checking.” He answered. She felt him start to say something else and then bite back emotion, body quivering beneath hers. Jill wrapped her arms around him. She pressed her ear against his left chest, making sure to hear his heartbeat.

“Me too.”

\--

**I think there’s only one or two chapters left here ; ) drop me a comment! Like I said, I’m working on the sequel already so stay tuned. **


	27. Chapter 27

**NSFW-ish. Jill fantasizing. **

**Chapter 27: **

The next hours were a whirlwind. They were separated and whisked into the hospital, locked in rooms where a detective Jill didn’t recognize interrogated her. Her name was Bertha, she was blonde with a pointed face and thick German accent. She made Jill stand with her arms out and photographed her. She had a badge Jill didn’t recognize. _One of the company’s people. _“You’ll need to put your clothes in here. All of it. To go to the lab.” She offered her a plastic bag, “And then you should shower to get the blood off.” Jill realized then that the woman was going to stay and watch her.

An hour turned to two. Then three. She had an awful, open-backed paper gown. Someone came and took blood from her. She closed her eyes and did her best not to squirm. Then a swab from her mouth. Another took a slice of her hair for a long-term drug test. Jill saw where this was going. No one wanted to hear her talk. They told her what happened. That the wardens had gotten into some bad acid out in the woods, that or they thought it would be funny to make mushroom tea while working.

(The kids call it “shroom tea” the pointed faced woman informed her, positively reveling in any discomfort Jill had).

There’d been an accident with C4 because some idiots were playing with it out in the woods. It had all been a perfect storm, really. Small town police getting high. Good ol’ boys doing stupid things. Jill quivered.

_Cover up. _

“Where’s Chris? Rebecca? Is Barry okay? How about his family?”

“They’re all being seen.” A nurse looking at the back of her throat with a penlight answered, “I’m afraid I can’t disclose the medical condition of other patients.”

“They’re my friends.” Jill cleared her throat; she hadn’t initially realized how much smoke she inhaled when the fuel ignited. It made her voice hoarse and had doomed her to ‘medical observation’, “They came in with me!”

“Hospital policy.” The nurse was out the door. Bertha stood with her back rested against the barrier to watch Jill.

She was eventually given a set of black scrubs which were many sizes too big, especially in the neck, and considering she’d always been chesty, Jill hugged her breasts uncomfortably. A set of prison issue slides.

Irons came to see her, “You did good, kid. You’re gonna take some time off. You’ve got a week of vacation that you’ll be paid for. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Sir—”

“Your badge?” He stuck out his hand. It had been sitting with her dead phone on the table.

“You’re taking my badge?” Her voice was a croak from all the talking and shouting. She’d refused the IV with the deal she had to drink as much water as she could.

“You’re going to take some time—” His condescending, bad-little-girl tone. Jill couldn’t stand it.

She cut him off: “Am I being suspended?”

“You’re all taking a leave of absence pending investigation. Redfield and Burton as well.”

“Burton’s family was kidnapped, Wesker was forcing him to work for Umbrella. He shot Enrico.” Jill said.

“There are no bodies. No evidence of a lab. Your badge, Ms. Valentine?” Jill set her jaw, glancing at it set on the bedside table. 

The gruff female detective put her hand on her tazer, “Is there a problem, Ms. Valentine. Do you need anxiety medication? I’m happy to make the call for the IV, if you need it.” Bertha looked elated.

Stomach in her throat, Jill handed her badge to Irons who whisked it from her fingertips and turned and marched out the door.

_Need to get to the UN. _“Can I get a phone charger? So I can contact my fiancé and let him know where I am?”

“Not right now.” Jill, unable to bring herself to stomach laying on the bed, looked at gauze taped over her knuckles and the crook of her arm they’d pulled her blood and sighed. She sat on the edge of the mattress with her feet swinging. Adhesive bandages on her knees and bicep from the other scrapes they’d patched up for her.

Jill shivered, “Cold?” Bertha asked her, a stupid smirk on her face.

“No.” Jill lied. Eventually someone showed up with a phone charger. He allowed her to plug it in before asking her a fresh set of questions (leading with: “Are you aware that the explosion happened on private property? You shouldn’t have been out there”). Thankfully he left, although being alone with Bertha wasn’t much better for her mental health. She swallowed the urge to cry. Bertha making comments on her appearance was starting to get to her.

Jill’s phone made a distinct chirp as it finally charged (or dried) enough to come back to life. She practically leap for it. Bertha stifled a laugh. Jill ignored her.

Two missed messages.

She’d expected more.

Hector had texted her the previous night asking how her day was, and then in the morning:

**I haven’t heard from you. Hope your morning is good. Lots of changes in the stocks with the clients so I’ll be out of the loop. **

_That’s it?_ Maybe she’d been too hard on him thinking he’d be angry about her missing the texts, but she only had two. Why did that make her feel worse? She’d taken some sick comfort in the idea that he might be worried silly over her, rather cruel of her, maybe.

She texted him. With the time difference it was two hours later in New York. Coming to the end of his workday.

**Hey, Hector. I know it’s busy but I just had a really intense case. People died. I’m okay but I’m really freaked and can you possibly come to Raccoon? **

He replied quickly, 

**Omg…are you okay? Do you need me to call?” **

She glanced at Bertha: **Can’t call now. **Jill texted back, **But I’m okay physically. Yes.…please come up? **

Hector responded: **It’s really busy at work but I can probably get a ride up on Saturday night! We will talk soon! **

It was Tuesday. Jill pressed her lips together: **can you come sooner? It’s really bad, Hector. I’m sorry I just don’t want to be alone. **

What was in her bank account? Could she afford a plane to New York? They hadn’t advised her not to leave the state. If anything, it sounded like the ‘investigation’ was a complete scam and the police department itself would pack her up on a plane if it meant she stayed far away.

**I can’t get there tonight, unfortunately. I won’t be able to catch a flight with the shit show my work is having. **He replied after a moment, quickly followed by: **I’ll see if I can catch a plane to Raccoon tomorrow after work! **

_Your work had a shit show? _

** Please. People died. It was really bad. **Jill considered telling him she was suspended but decided against it.

**I’ll try my best! **He replied quickly, **Is Chris okay? **

** Yes. Him and I made it out. **

** Good! Then you and him can keep an eye on each other until I get there! **Hector replied. Jill blinked at that, suddenly feeling immensely awkward about the way she and Chris cuddled up on the flight to the hospital. _Don’t make it weird, it’s not weird. You were just tired and hugging. Trauma brain and all that. _

**Yeah. True. **She texted back.

**Glad you’re okay, Jillian. I’ll be there soon as I can. And I’ll call soon. Hang in there. **Feeling down on herself for being upset. She was being selfish, maybe, demanding that he leave work and fly more than halfway across the country.

_You’re not being demanding. He doesn’t realize how dire what happened is. _

Jill wanted to be hugged, kissed. And not normally one to be rutty, wanted to grab Hector by his tie and have him take her as many times as he could on any surface of the cabin. She’d survived: might as well do something to feel alive and take her mind off it. Knowing him he’d be scared of knocking things off the counter. The thought made Jill chuckle to herself. _Hector would get really upset if we knocked things off the counter—I’d have to clean it off. To be fair his family owns the cabin. Doesn’t matter. Sex isn’t in the cards for you tonight. Neither is Hector making it to Raccoon. _

Hector would probably insist on the bed if he showed up, or the couch, but he preferred missionary and the couch made that position uncomfortable for Jill with how small it was. But she’d see if he showed up tomorrow. She had a vibrator at her disposal, Jill supposed, but unless the sex came with the companionship she wasn’t too interested. _Knowing Hector, he’ll go ham for three minutes and be done for the night. _He wasn’t a guy who liked it to go on for a long time. Jill made it work.

Even so, now that her mind got down that path, and maybe it was because it was better than sitting and crying as she really wanted to do, Jill let herself sit there and fantasize. Hector would be a wet blanket about bending her over the counter. He’d probably turn any sex energy into packing her up and dragging her ass to Albany when he heard about this, insisting on an immediate wedding to put her on his fancy corporate healthcare and send her ass to a shrink (not that a shrink was a bad idea, either). Although if her job here was gone Jill wondered if that was the worst thing. If only there was another option tonight. Someone who she was more comfortable with, someone who she’d gone through _that whole experience with. _

_Jill, no. _

But her tired brain and her damn fiancé and his damn high-octane job. Of course she would never cheat on Hector, that was one of the non-negotiables of her moral code, one of the pillars of their relationship with the distance. They were exclusive. _But Chris is hot. He’s your best friend and it would be so weird but he’s hot. You can at least admit that even though you’ll not act on it. _The same thoughts she’d had before. Chris was strong enough for her to leap on him, wrap her legs around his waist and let him have her however he wanted.

They could talk. Him above her, _or under her. _It would be a good distraction from the debriefing between each other. All of the things they’d have to discuss. Starting with how to get in touch with the UN. _Yes, have sex fantasies about the guy who you accidently found a conspiracy with. Bad idea. You’re gonna be working together for a while. _ She looked up, awkwardly, as if Bertha was somehow able to hear all of her thoughts.

The woman was busy with her own smartwatch.

_God if Chris found out. That boy dates supermodels, from the looks of him. He’d laugh himself into oblivion. _Jill dropped it. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

Another message: **Are you ok? They just gave me my phone back. Holy shit they took my badge. I saw Barry’s family here. They just let me out. **

It was from Chris, and it made her settle. She wasn’t so alone in the world after all. Her best friend had made it through with her: **This bitch I’m with will probably murder me if she sees me try to leave the room. How’s Rebecca?**

** Lol. Same with this guy. She’s okay. Broken ribs and a bruised lung. They’re keeping her overnight. She has a friend with her. **

He texted her ‘lol’. It felt so normal. Weirdly normal. The door opened and Bertha was speaking with someone outside of her room. She eventually called for Jill, who gathered her watch and phone, the only two things they’d let her keep, and made her way into the hallway. The slides were too big and Jill had to drag her feet to keep them on, the too-long scrub pants dragged on the ground at her heels. Chris was wearing the same black cotton set as she. “Hey.” She said. He was showered too. Probably had been through the same interrogation and strip down fiasco. 

_Not that it’s a bad idea to send those clothes to a lab. _

“Hey.” He replied, eyes down, looking exhausted. Jill felt bad that she’d been thinking such thoughts after the night they’d hardly survived. He deserved a good meal and rest, not his engaged coworker suddenly having awkward hots for him. 

_He would laugh you into oblivion, Jill. Hector will here tomorrow. _

A man called Beltway, dressed the same as Bertha, walked them to see Rebecca. He told them to stay quiet and they listened. Jill doubted she and Chris would hve spoken in front of these two clowns anyway. Another man with slicked dark hair was sitting with her and she seemed comfortable, that or drugged, half asleep with an oxygen canula under her nose. Her face was the same color as the sheets, “Are you guys okay?” She didn’t introduce her friend, but he seemed to care about her, their hands clenched together. He watched their movements with hawkish dark eyes. Rebecca patted his hand as if to let him know that she was okay with the visitors.

“Yeah. Heard you’re a little beat up.”

“Got shot in the chest.” She swallowed, “Not many people can say…that.” She yawned. Rebecca was too tired to talk, and here certainly wasn’t the venue for figuring out things. Jill and Chris bid her goodnight.

Barry’s family was with him. His wife stood in the way, wordlessly stopping Jill and Chris from entering his hospital room with the most poisonous yet terrified face Jill had ever seen. There was another woman dressed the same as Bertha and Beltway who stood beside Mrs. Burton. “He’s not taking visitors.” She said so Kathy Burton didn’t have to.

And Jill was okay with that, being herded down the stairs and to a waiting patrol car. She and Chris were shoved in the back, the door slammed. Jill had to awkwardly scoot across the seat, trying not to lose her oversized clothes, as they’d only opened one door and pushed her in first.

Jill hugged her chest, hoping she hadn’t flashed anyone with how damn big the collar of the shirt was. She didn’t recognize the officer driving, and he made no point to speak to either of them. _How fast did they get rent-a-cops? _

_Cover up. Conspiracy. _

It was a hot, sunny day but the blasting air conditioning in the patrol car made her shiver. People walked down Main Street, as if nothing happened. That was the ground shattering fact: nothing happened here. A glance at the mountains. Jill couldn’t see any smoke from her angle. Two parents walked with their daughter between them, swinging the young girl by her arms and the three of them laughing. She felt like the entire town was looking at her like a mad woman. This was about to be a hell of a PR problem.

_We were not on drugs. _

They’d lived the nightmare and come back here, home, to find it bizarrely similar as they left it. The whole adventure felt faraway and fragmented, like a bad dream. _No wonder it sounds completely outlandish_. A game warden SUV was parked at the station_._ The one she and Chris normally drove.

Jill clasped her nose and mouth into her palm to get rid of the tears.

“You guys have ten minutes. Empty out your lockers. I’ll walk you in.” The officer driving told them. Chris’ Jeep, shiny white paint, parked in the spot he normally did. Enrico’s car was already gone. As was Wesker’s. Jill swallowed. _Already had people out here moving stuff. _

She and Chris got out of the backseat. She kept her head down, bobbed hair a frizzy mess of snarls from the lack of brush at her disposal after the hospital shower. Jill opened her locker. Took the lock and tucked it into an old plastic grocery bag she’d shoved into the bottom. She didn’t feel comfortable changing anymore, and just chucked her old t-shirt into the bag. Her ring was on the top shelf, as always.

Jill hesitated. The diamond felt heavy on her swollen, raw finger. She twisted it off with a hiss and tucked it into her handbag which was hanging in the locker where she’d left it. Jill and Chris were walked out the staff entrance, which was promptly slammed behind them.

She looked at Chris and he looked back at her, “Do you…want to stay at my place? I have an air mattress.” Jill told him, “Hector actually told me we should keep an eye on each other after all this, and he doesn’t even know half.” She went to the passenger door of his Jeep, climbing in. Her jelly, sore muscles screamed at her with the leap up into the seat and she was less than graceful, “He doesn’t…realize the whole conspiracy.” Jill stated, “I don’t know if we should be alone.”

Chris was nodding with her, “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that. Do you mind if I stop in town and get clothes?”

“No. Of course not. We probably should eat something too.” Jill suggested.

“Let’s order a pizza. I know it’s not New York but there’s a place on Main that’s decent.”

“Yeah. Let’s.” Jill agreed.

“What do we do now?” Chris asked her, “We don’t have any evidence.”

“I don’t know. But we can figure that out together, right?” She actually needed him to say yes to that. There was no other answer.

“Of course.”

“If this pizza sucks. You don’t get to pick the restaurant ever again.” Jill muttered, a lame attempt at a joke. She wasn’t hungry in the slightest, but she felt the distinct exhausted dizziness of her body needing calories. “Umbrella better watch out, too.”

Chris laughed, “Better watch their damn backs. They don’t realize what you and I are capable of.” Chris told her, Jill smiled at that.

“Sure as hell they don’t.”

\--

**This is it for the fic, guys! But _Homefront, _the sequel, is coming! The first few chapters will probably be up this week before I go on a quick hiatus for a trip I’m taking and to start grabbing lots of OT at my new job. <3 Thank you loves. **

**Some smut, lots of Chris/Jill/Hector flailing. Lots of Claire being a badass. Lots of Ada and Umbrella villains fucking with everyone’s shit. **

**Drop me some comments or tumblr messages: Jkit45. What did you like? What didn’t you like? Let me know. **

**In the meantime. **

**Ending theme song: _Bar at the End of the World_ Kenny Chesney **

**Jill’s song for the next: _Did It Again _Shakira **


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